Saturday, January 06, 2007
Old boxes are like time capsules, at least for pack rats like me. Sarah is in her "nesting" period of the pregnancy and has been cleaning, working, packing and sorting for the last few weeks. What this means for me: work. I was going through an old box of tee shirts, of which I have many. It brought back a lot of memories: a Mike DeWine for Senate shirt that I think was from 1994. My Tax Dodger shirt from co-ed softball, 1996. A Springfield Police Department shirt some cops gave me at the Dubliner Bar in D.C. after I bought them some drinks. A Hofbrauhaus shirt from our Olympic trip in 1992. Those are all shirts I am donating to the Salvation Army.
I'm keeping: An Indy 500 shirt from the 75th running (1991) that I bought in the parking lot that I've always thought was a beautiful t-shirt. Another shirt from the Olympics, the one the Mayor of Colera gave us one drunken evening in Spain and a shirt with COBI, the Olympic mascot that I can't part with. The official Hall of Fame Senior Olympics shirt of which I was the coordinator. One from the 1996 GOP Convention (Donkeys don't surf San Diego). An old Ohio State shirt. None are in pristine condition. But all bring back memories that I never want to lose.
I'm keeping: An Indy 500 shirt from the 75th running (1991) that I bought in the parking lot that I've always thought was a beautiful t-shirt. Another shirt from the Olympics, the one the Mayor of Colera gave us one drunken evening in Spain and a shirt with COBI, the Olympic mascot that I can't part with. The official Hall of Fame Senior Olympics shirt of which I was the coordinator. One from the 1996 GOP Convention (Donkeys don't surf San Diego). An old Ohio State shirt. None are in pristine condition. But all bring back memories that I never want to lose.
