On a day that is -14 and gusting -48 degree wind chills there is one thing to do. Sit inside all day by a space heater while eating left over pizza. But that gets old pretty fast. It is pretty amazing, but there really are a lot of things you can do around the house if you really think about it. A lot of them have to do with cleaning and organizing things.
Cleaning and throwing stuff away is always a difficult thing for me, because I get attached to my stuff. My dresser drawer was full of shirts I wear maybe twice a year. Of course, I have a junk drawer full of mementos and pictures of times passed. It always makes me feel good to go through it, but I usually end up throwing half of it away. What I can’t bring myself to throw away are T-shirts I shall never wear.
For example, I still have my high school class T-shirt. Why? I didn’t even like high school! The mere fact that it has been with me for over 10 years is sufficient enough for me to hang on to it. Revvin in ’97!
This one also came from the high school days. I was part of an arbitrary social club that was mostly made up of people from marching band and the straight ‘A’ students called the “eyeball club” (I don’t know how I got mixed up with that crew since I was neither). The club was based off of a marketing scheme that Taco Bell did in the mid-nineties that promoted their products with a straw that curled around a floating plastic eyeball. Somehow our unprecedented excitement over this thing inspired us to organize and make shirts that declared our allegiance to it. The point of the club was to pick a day where we would all wear our shirts and visit local restaurants around town and eat out together—all 50 of us. One of the rules was that Mark Gibson could not be a member, which looking back now, was incredibly mean. He’s an economist now and is better than all of us, so I guess it evens out.
I’m not exactly sure why I have this shirt. I made it for some sort of competitive event at a collegiate program sponsored by the Navigators, but I’m not sure why. I think it was a spin off of a shirt I saw once that said, “I wish I was black.” I think, as I recall, that is the real t-shirt I wanted to make, but I knew that would have been over the line. Nonetheless, its not as funny as I thought it would be.
I honestly have no idea how I obtained this shirt. I certainly did not buy it. Or maybe I did. It must have been one of those random thrift store buys I impulsively purchased only to realize what I had done later.