Cobblings from My Memories

I'm reluctant to give up comfortable T-shirts. It's rare to find a shirt that fits you just right and is super comfortable at the same time. It's even better when, as you retire shirts from the public, the truly good ones live a long afterlife as shirts to do yard work in, generally be lazy in or just sleep in.

So it's with sadness that I have to send this shirt to the cotton grave. It's been a good one, but holes are starting to form and it's just time to say goodbye, which is a concept I wish Steven Tyler could grasp, but alas he must continue to make music that barely appeals to deaf dogs, let alone music consumers.

This shirt does hold a special place for me, which is why it's hard to give it up. This was one of my going-away gifts when I interned at the St. Pete Times back in 1999. The reporters and copy desk folks pretty much hung out at two bars on regular basis, either The Garden (my personal favorite, where the bartender Bill always had two screwdrivers waiting for me at 1 a.m. after my shift was over) or The Press Box over in Tampa where all the media types hung out.

So getting a T-shirt from The Press Box was a nice gesture considering I was just an intern (and one of 15 at that), yet somehow they took to me and I made friendships that still last to this day with the likes of Donna, Ecton, Todd, Gerry, Liz and many more. I was lucky enough to have done so well at the internship that they left me a standing offer to come back full-time once I graduated, which I quickly accepted. So this shirt has history behind it and reminds me of many great times, making it a bummer to give up.

Thankfully I still have my other keepsake the staff gave me, a priceless Mugato doll. One Saturday morning Todd, Ecton and I spent three hours editing stories and talking about Star Trek and debating who the greatest comedic alien they ever threw into an episode (we settled on Mugato and the Gorn as the best ones). This is what happens when you work the night shift on Friday night (until 1 a.m.) and then have be back into the office for the Saturday morning shift (7:30 a.m.) and everyone's feeling a little punchy.

So in the end I must part with this shirt. But I do know it will live on, since I found a company that will accept unwanted or tattered shirts and recycle them. So somewhere that Press Box shirt will be still out there, which is cool.