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Lost and never found

Ever lose an article of clothing that you just can't forget?

In the summer of 1988, I left a jacket in a little restaurant in Choteau, Mont. Though I called the place and everything, I never got it back.

I really liked that jacket. I had not had it long. But I remember wearing it made me feel more confident and capable than I really am. I enjoyed that.

I think of it whenever I see one vaguely like it. Or when I hear Choteau mentioned, as I did last night when watching a few minutes of "Jurassic Park." 

I used to hope that whoever walked off with it went on to live a life cursed with puny dreams, thwarted ambitions and insane women.

Still do. 

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The Slice

The online home for Paul Turner's musings and interactions with disciples of The Slice.