I came to a deep realization the other day; I am most happy while wearing cotton.
Yup. It’s this kind of content that makes you want to pass over this article and on to the next one with content rooted in deeper and more life-affirming information. Recently, I was charged with performing one of my least favorite household tasks. It’s even worse than trying to install a garbage disposal or scrubbing toilets. My Herculean type of challenge was to find a document in the back storage area behind our primary bedroom’s closet. This requires looking in all the storage bins. We have probably spent more on those containers than I would like to admit. Green ones denote Christmas decorations, orange bins mark Halloween decorations we have not put up in a decade. That dough would have been better spent on tacos and beer. Boxes are priority level two; which probably means they belong exclusively to me and not my lovely wife. It is most likely newspaper clippings when the Huskers were good at football. Or that one time before all my swear words where I got a medal for being an above average altar boy.
In the long discovery process, which unearthed no special document, I came across a bin which begat great joy…my old t-shirts! It was better than a scrapbook or memory on Facebook. When you devote the money to splurge on amazing wearable art it leaves an impact. I discovered t-shirts my buddies and I created in college for intramural sports and inside jokes. There was the overpriced t-shirt I got at Kokomos Dance Club in Lake Havasu, Arizona, on college Spring Break where many pretty girls turned me down while techno music served as the cruel soundtrack. Looking back, country music would have been a better pairing. My family launched a golf tournament at par 3 courses across the Midwest and we commemorated that event in cotton. That’s the only golf contest I ever won. I placed 80th in the Siouxland Amateur Open. Yup, out of 80, I was the Oakland A’s of duffers.
I probably should not put this evidence in print. I have more than 100 t-shirts in my closet. Every few months, I go through them all and donate 5-10 to charity. My partner in crime for more than 25 years wishes that the donation number would go up. I just can’t. I just put one of the storage cotton gems back into rotation. It was a dark blue “cotton postcard” from Anyways Bar and Grill from our honeymoon in Chicago way back when I had amazing hair! I wonder if I would get a discount if I wear it to the restaurant? With those financial savings, we could buy more storage bins.
I have three business suits. I would gladly donate 2 or 3 of those. Truth is I never really feel comfortable in my own skin in those. It feels like a costume.
Alas! If you happen to still be reading this, I believe we have an epiphany! One that the recently departed Jimmy Buffett would have endorsed on the beach. Do more of the activities that create joy and happiness for you and in your life. For me, suits are a sign of respect you give at a funeral, court appearances, and big weddings of your inner circle.
T-shirts represent chill times and great conversations around a fire pit with your closest buddies. I can’t remember the last time my buddies suggested we create a t-shirt design. Maybe it’s time to bring that tradition back! I can see it now. A Siouxland Magazine blue tinted shirt reading “I wanted better content with Tony’s lame article” in big white letters. I’d buy it. They don’t make that in a suit.
By Tony M. Michalski, Cotton Enthusiast
