As a coworker and I were talking today, the subject of overalls came up. She told me that her uncle, who was notorious for always wearing overalls, once strolled into a Cadillac dealership. Now, he had the ability to pay, in cash, for any new Cadillac that he saw fit. The dealership salesman, noting his tattered overalls, and writing him off as some penniless hillbilly, told him that he didn’t think that they had anything that he could afford. Well, he went down the road and purchased a brand new vehicle, paying cash. Needless to say, that Cadillac dealer sure did miss out on some commission.
I really liked that story, but it reminded me of one of my own. My daddy gave me an appreciation for a man in overalls. I don’t think there’s anything sweeter than a little baby boy, or a little rough and tumble boy, or an elderly man dressed in overalls. My dad, a lover of Liberty denim overalls, would wear those everywhere. In fact, for a short while, when one or two of his pair got a little raggedy around the hem, he had Mama cut them off and make them into overall shorts. Well, thank you Jesus that trend didn’t last long. He looked awful funny sportin’ those overall shorts and brogans.
My daddy once told me, when I had big dreams of a wedding, that he was going to walk me down the aisle in his overalls. At the time, I was appalled, and said “You most certainly won’t.” I’ve got to say, what I’d give for that man to walk me down the aisle now. If he were here now, I’d even let him wear his most-favorite tattered pair of Liberty overalls.
One thing that I will always remember about my daddy was the fact that he always made it a point to wear his overalls to church every Easter. He did this as a bit of a protest. See, while all the ladies were gussyin’ up, putting on their very finest new dress, and the men were sprucing up and putting on their Sunday best, Daddy just didn’t see the point. He always felt that it didn’t matter what you wore to the House of the Lord; just as long as you went. You didn’t have to be all done up to go in and worship and pray.
Well about five years ago, there it was…Easter. Mama and Rheba were done up, and there dad was…walking into church in his overalls. Behind him were a group of young women. One of the girls said “Can you believe what that man has on??” Then they all started snickering. Well that just grated Daddy’s nerves. I remember him coming home telling me all about it, as we had drove separately.
“That girl hurt my feelings! It doesn’t matter what you wear to church! You don’t have to be dressed all snazzy to pray!...”
And then he continued with, “And that girl’s sittin’ there talking about my overalls…Look at her! She’s so ugly, you’d have to tie a damn pork chop around her neck to get the dog to play with her!”
Real nice coming from a man that just got out of church, right? I sure did love that man.