I Am 63 Flavors And Then Some
My son and I went to the grocery store yesterday to hang out and pick up the week’s vittles. I called home as I was leaving to find out if we needed anything else so I could get back, put my feet up and watch some baseball. When I had left my house my wife had been doing all of our laundry (bless her heart). When she answered the phone and heard it was me she said “do you know how many short sleeve shirts you have hanging in the closet?” What kind of question was this? I knew roughly how many I had. I could visualize my shirts. “No idea”, I said playing along. “How many.”
Hogwash. There is no way I had that many shirts, much less short sleeve shirts. “Are you counting my t-shirts also?” I said. “Nope” she said. “There are some long sleeve shirts in my closet, you know, just in case I have to wear a suit” I said. “I know” she said. “But there are 60 short sleeve shirts. Just thought you may want to know.” I said “Now that the weather is hot, I will wear short sleeve shirts more often.” She said “True, and if you wear every one of them you may not need to wash another one until next year.”
We hung up and I was peeved. What right does she have to be counting my shirts?
That night I went in the closet and counted my short sleeve shirts. She was wrong. I have 63.
I refuse to feel like an obsessive hoarder about clothing. I like my shirts. I have specific ones for specific occasions. For instance: I have an outfit for a Death Metal show, Jazz or classical concert, music festival, luau, a Tiki Bar, a wine tasting, a Briss, Traditional and Rock and Roll church.
I have gig shirts that are appropriate in sweaty beer halls and other gig shirts that look great in restaurants. I have Country and Western shirts, Velour Rugby shirts, tight Zip front corduroy shirts, old skool hip-hop shirts, stripes for Raves, and black for Avant garde noise improv shows.
I like vintage shirts of polyester blend. Find me the earth tones or primary colors with the brand names of Montgomery Ward, JCPenny Men’s Store, Wrangler Permanent Press, or Guayabera and I’m buying it.
I like to be prepared for any situation. It’s not who you are, how you sound, but how you look, right?
She used the term superfluous when we spoke about it again. I walked around bare chested for the rest of the evening just to prove what it would be like if I had no shirts. I flexed my pectorals every time we passed each other in the hallway. She didn’t seem to notice. I’m just glad she didn’t count my matching t-shirts or shoes.