I think it was about cleaning felt -soled wading boots. It made me think about last weekend. I bought a new set of waders and boots and drove down to Mukilteo to try 'em out. I snagged a rare parking spot near the beach and opened the tailgate to sit on while I donned the waders. They fit and were cheap, so I was well pleased. I paused while lacing on the boots to examine the felt soles more closely, because I only had rubber boots before and was glad I had a better-gripping sole to prevent embarrassing and painful face-plants at boat ramps, not that that ever actually happened to me. So I was sort of running my fingers through the felt when I hear this car honk. Not that friendly reminder beep you hear when you've dozed off at a green light, but an angry honk. I look up and a woman in a minivan with a couple of kids is glaring at me. The windows were tinted, but I could feel the glare. I know that glare from elsewhere. Good thing I was wearing polarized sunglasses. Maybe she was looking for a parking spot to buy her kids an ice cream cone at Ivar's. Maybe she was thinking I should get my ass to work on a Friday. Maybe she was jealous because nobody had fondled her felt like I was doing with my new boot. No matter. I am wise in the ways of women, so I just gave her my patented shrug of the shoulders, which means, "No Habla Hormones". Someone beeped at her and she moved on. I got my gear on and crimped my barb when nobody was looking and waded into the sea. My wader test worked out fine. No leaks, no blisters, no problem. Also no fish. I blame that on the honk messing up my karma. I went home. I hosed off my waders on the driveway when no children were present, and blasted the felt with a high-power spray, to remove any invasive species. Like, say, a salmon or something. I mention that to keep on topic.