The Man in the Red Coat
When I was a kid growing up in Kentucky, I hated wearing a coat. Coats were un-cool…and so were gloves and toboggans (what we called beanies in the South). They were bulky and messed up my outfit and my hair.
I remember heading out to school morning after morning (even when it was snowing), and I resisted my Mom’s efforts to put a coat on me. I’d rather be freezing cold than un-cool. Ironically, my daughter has inherited the same aversion to warmth.
And…it’s just plain ridiculous!
Fast forward to 7am on February 12th, 2010.
I pulled into the parking garage at John’s loft in downtown Long Beach wearing the heaviest coat I could find in my closet.
“What is that?” John asked.
“It’s the only coat I have…do you think it’ll be enough for New York?”
“Umm…have you checked the weather? There’s a foot of snow there!” John’s laughter echoed through the underground garage.
He turned around and headed toward the elevator in search of a more substantial coat that would prevent me from “frost-biting” to death. Five minutes later, the doors parted and a red glow shined as bright as a red-hot fire shooting down the elevator shaft.
“Here ya go.” John tossed me a pile of bright red puffiness. “This coat was $400 in 1990.”
“Are you kidding me? I can’t wear this!”
“If you don’t wear it, you’re going to FREEZE!” John warned.
The truth is that I was having a flash back to 1988 when I avoided wearing an un-cool coat to the high school football game. But this time…the coat REALLY was un-cool.
To appease John, I slipped on the puffy, two-armed outerwear, and I turned to look in the reflection of my car windows. I looked like a bright-red Pillsbury dough boy in this early 90s relic…which included wing-like arms that expanded downward when I raised my arms upward. This coat was undoubtedly used by a Colorado search and rescue team two decades ago.
I really had no choice.
Be cool…or be warm. As a college-educated father of two, I wisely chose to be warm…and not die from frost-bite.
Hours later, I walked out of the JFK airport, and I was thanking John for the red coat. With snow on the ground and temperatures in the 20s, my light-weight, Gap coat would have been worthless.
Soon enough, we were walking into the Ace Hotel – one of the newest and hippest boutique hotels in New York City. The lobby was a huge bar with 50-100 people sipping cocktails 24/7. It should go without saying, but I was the only person wearing a red coat…especially a puffy one made in 1990. I guess black is the only color of choice in NYC.
Replay this same scenario as I walked down the streets in Times Square…heads turned.
As I walked onto the subway, even the homeless guy gawked at the bright redness.
Seated in the Broadway theater, the coat spilled over into the seats to my right and left.
Even the coat-check-lady at the Museum of Modern Art handed it back to me and said, “Sir…here’s your red coat.” (Did she really need to point out the color?)
Everywhere I went in New York, I was searching for anyone who may be wearing a red coat. Once in a great while, I found someone…and it was usually a grandma who was wearing a full-length red coat that was adorned with furry lapels.
I stood out like a sore thumb…but at least I was warm. Mid-way through our trip, I realized something. I wasn’t the one who was un-cool…everyone else was. Everyone else was wearing the same black coat that hug closely to their bodies and was purchased in the past two years. They were simply going along with the crowd and doing what was expected.
My red coat had HUGE benefits.
John never lost sight of me. People were well-aware when I walked into the room. And, our new friends who we met in NY saw us a block away when we met them at a Broadway show. ?
The bottom line is that I was remarkable…able to be remarked about.
Are you remarkable?
Do you stand out from the crowd?
Do people notice what you have to bring to this great life that we live?
