Tribute to a Champion of Time
I wanted to take time out of my day to pay respect to a centurion of fabrics, a T-shirt I've just noticed still making regular appearances in my collection of clothes currently in circulation at this exact period in my young adulthood.
It's name is Ben.
It's probably the oldest shirt i have in my bounty of clothing. A living legend. If the sad, unknown world of T-shirts is like the world when you're in middle school this shirt would be the guy in your 8th grade class who is older than everyone because he was held back, which gave him instant 'bad ass' status, but never in a way that got along very well with public education and living a normal and stable life.
I did my laundry a few days ago and I was unusually compelled to take time to stare at it for a few seconds, and then immediately appreciate this epic T-shirt that doesn't get lost or strangely vanish over time. It's the scruffiest and most haggard-
looking shirt I own, and its figured out how to keep on keepin' on, so they say, still in circulation in my bounty of laundry for Alex Cruz, age 23, happily content but a little confused.
You always seem to become curiously aware of the passage of time when you come across those relics made of fabric. Our minds have no other option but to automatically reflect on the duration of time from now to when you first acquired artifacts like my T-shirt for example. Look at all the holes, and look how the collar is all but entirely frayed.
I got it from a high school soccer tournament in some small town in Georgia that the world will never hear from, and although I probably won't notice when Ben does eventually disappear, I'll feel a little better knowing that I took a little time to write about him.
Its the ability to ignore time, to prolong a slow but certain degradation into trace fragments that has inspired me to do great things one day.
It's name is Ben.
It's probably the oldest shirt i have in my bounty of clothing. A living legend. If the sad, unknown world of T-shirts is like the world when you're in middle school this shirt would be the guy in your 8th grade class who is older than everyone because he was held back, which gave him instant 'bad ass' status, but never in a way that got along very well with public education and living a normal and stable life.
I did my laundry a few days ago and I was unusually compelled to take time to stare at it for a few seconds, and then immediately appreciate this epic T-shirt that doesn't get lost or strangely vanish over time. It's the scruffiest and most haggard-
looking shirt I own, and its figured out how to keep on keepin' on, so they say, still in circulation in my bounty of laundry for Alex Cruz, age 23, happily content but a little confused.
You always seem to become curiously aware of the passage of time when you come across those relics made of fabric. Our minds have no other option but to automatically reflect on the duration of time from now to when you first acquired artifacts like my T-shirt for example. Look at all the holes, and look how the collar is all but entirely frayed.
I got it from a high school soccer tournament in some small town in Georgia that the world will never hear from, and although I probably won't notice when Ben does eventually disappear, I'll feel a little better knowing that I took a little time to write about him.
Its the ability to ignore time, to prolong a slow but certain degradation into trace fragments that has inspired me to do great things one day.
posted by Alex Cruz at
10:21 AM
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