You can't see it, of course, because I write for a newspaper, but as I type this I'm wearing a dove gray jacket and slacks by Alexander McQueen; a V-neck T-shirt with a likeness of Kenny Rogers from ATM Anthony Thomas Melillo's "Ironic" line; and a pair of Brunello Cucinelli deck shoes from his "Normally We Don't Bother with Deck Shoes" collection. My watch? It's a high-tech prototype by Rado of Switzerland and it's made of chocolate because, as you know, the Swiss can make watches and chocolate, so why not at the same time?

I bring this to your attention because I PAID for this ensemble.  

In that spirit, I'm tired of seeing local television news programs where journalists have their clothing provided for them. It says so clearly on the graphics posted at the bottom of your screen at the end of each newscast:

"Ed Goatkirk's wardrobe provided by Pierre's of Chicago" or "Cindy Cairntopper's wardrobe provided by Hilda's of Rodeo Drive."

Frankly, not to start a war about who does better journalism, but those TV folks sorta just ... well, READ stuff. And look shiny. Me? I do my own reporting — but I don't get any free clothes out of it.

One other note in this context: the ensemble described above wasn't cheap. And, as many of us in the region are feeling the crunch wrought of this damnable plague — and realizing that the folks in Hartford don't really care much about southeastern Connecticut and won't until one of those Paul Newman people move here — I've been walking the dark, empty corridors of Stately Koster Manor during these long nights of the soul, trying to come up with some concepts that might energize our local economy.

Here's what I've come up with so far:

1. Auction Off Street Names — There are about 350 streets, boulevards, avenues and so on in New London. What if the city accepted bids from citizens or corporations on the rights to rename any road in the city? At the end of the prescribed bidding period, whoever submitted the most cash for a particular street could then officially retitle said byway anything they want within stipulated parameters of decency. 

 2. Lower the Conceptual Bar for Fort Trumbull — Yes, we all remember the "champagne wishes/caviar dreams" scenarios originally foisted on us by the hucksters — er, visionaries — who went full General Sherman on an entire neighborhood. Hmm. There are weeds over there that were tender little shoots when the Supreme Court endorsed this kookery that are now 27 feet tall. How about:

A. Forget the convention center, deluxe condos, boutique shops, and restaurants.

B. Aim for the following businesses and offer deals appropriate to long-term residency: pawn shops, pool halls, massage parlors, liquor stores, and gun dealers. Oh, and maybe a school.

3. For a modest fee, Mayor Passero will swing by residents' homes and personally pick up the lawn and leaf bags placed there by well-meaning citizens after making the effort to keep their property neat — and that otherwise just sit there and rot because, really, there aren't any plans that I can determine telling us what to do with them.

Rick Koster's wardrobe is provided by the Salvation Army Thrift Shop.