It was 1996 in San Diego, California. I was there for a meeting that I’ve long forgotten. It had already been this road trip before San Diego. Seattle had been the first stop on the cross country jaunt.
The meeting in San Diego was an addition to the west coast trip added after I’d flown out of Atlanta. I’d packed for three days and now I’d be on the road for six. Plus, I had a down day, a day between meetings and nothing to wear but suits, ties and running gear. I had no causal attire.
San Diego is one of my favorite cities. With a little down time, I didn’t need long preparation for the meeting as I was already well versed on the subject, I left my hotel to find some inexpensive casual clothes so I could walk around the city.
Near where I was staying were loads of nice clothing shops. None of them, I mean absolutely zero came anywhere near an establishment where inexpensive was part of their vocabulary. All I wanted was a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I don’t remember the shorts. I do remember the t-shirt.
It was a plain t-shirt without an over-priced logo. The shirt was marked at $38.00! To make matters worse, I could not find a less expensive t-shirt. This was 1996 and by 2016 prices $38.00 for a t-shirt still seem pricey to me.
In a jam, I bought the shirt. That was 20 years ago. That t-shirt has outlasted any other t-shirt I’ve ever owned and I’ve worn the thread out of it.
Sadly, its time has come to an end. It is literally falling apart. It is kind of sad to see it go, but it needs to go. It’s not just saying goodbye to the shirt. It is the memories associated with the shirt.
Memories of how badly I wanted to be home. How I was trying to make the best of another road trip. How I wished my family could be with me to enjoy San Diego. How I had a job that most people can only imagine. And how I hated to spend that money.