I am now fully prepared to say that the power of the kilt is greater than we imagined.

I mentioned in another thread that my wife and I went to the local farmer's market today. I was casual, in my Pride of Scotland, navy blue hoody, tactical boots and black wool socks.

When I was with my wife, I got zero comments. A couple of weird stares, an equal number of smiles and nods of tacit approval, but other than the nice lady and her husband (from Edinburgh) at the Celtic jewelry booth, no one said a word.

At one point, I struck out on my own when things at one end of the market got a little crowded -- I have a thing about crowds. I told her I was bugging out and to call me on my cell when she was done where she was.

In the five or six minutes I wandered by myself, I got four comments from females of the species, from, "Looking good!" to, "D@mn, I love a man in a kilt." I am 45 years old and 5-foot-8 any way you measure me; no one will ever confuse me and George Clooney in a line-up.

The power of the kilt is very, very real. And since my wife wasn't around when it manifested, I can only conclude that it's also a little naughty.