"Clearly, I will go sailing no more"

Some spare clothes are up for grabs and it's either me or the charity shop that gets them. A few nice pairs of jeans, a denim shirt, a hoody and a jumper.

"Not the jumper, it's old and has holes in it."

"But the jeans look fine," I said. "I'll try them on."

They fit perfectly. Great! I'm in shape and I'm looking good. "Let me try the denim shirt."

The shirt fits, the jeans look good, now what about that hoody?

"No, dad, you can't wear that."

"Why not? It looks good."

"No, you can't wear it."

I prance around in it, admiring how great it looks on me – or so I think. I'm proud of it and me.

"Dad, you can't wear it and you shouldn't be wearing double denim either."

"Double denim? Why not?"

"It's not right."

"But the hoody looks good..."

"No it doesn't."

I'm about to go out. I want to wear the hoody, but everybody thinks it's not a good idea. I start to feel a little self-conscious.

Later, on a walk into town...

"If we pass somebody that looks like you did in the hoody, I'll point them out.

In the supermarket...

"Over there."

"That's not it," I said. "He should be wearing a hoody."

And then another man...

"He's not even wearing a hoody," I say.

And then, of course, I get it. They think I'm too old to wear a hoody, that it simply doesn't look right on me. I'm past my hoody-wearing days. Suddenly, I felt old. I was, after all, 'dad'. And dads don't wear hoodies. But it was worse than that; I felt like Buzz Lightyear when he finally realises that he's a toy, a child's plaything, and he can't fly.

But no, it can't be true

I could fly if I wanted to

Like a bird in the sky

If I believe I can fly

Why I'd fly

Clearly, I will go sailing, no more*

* Randy Newman.