TEE-SHIRTS

One thing about tee-shirts.
You can never have enough of them.
And you always have too many of them.
Over the years,
they have gradually taken over my bureau,
and today it's time for a showdown.
We're looking at tee-shirts from
everywhere I've ever traveled
outside a 10-mile radius of New York City.
There are shirts from
every country my mother's visited
in the years since her retirement.
The ones that friends bring back from vacation
when they don't know what else to get you.
There are the ones I've gotten free —
and of course we all know
you never refuse a free tee shirt.
Shirts from the bank and the hardware store.
For some reason,
I also have shirts emblazoned with
the logos of Maxwell House,
Velcro and Crest toothpaste.
Then there are the "event" shirts —
the ones given out at company outings
and 25th anniversary barbecues.
And the ones you buy
when you go to see an Indy car race
for the one and only time in your life.
And finally, there are the really rare shirts:
the ones you buy because you like them.
The problem is what to do with them all.
Which ones do you part with —
the ugly ones?
Do you keep the ones that actually fit?
Or those huge ones that hang loose and hide all?
As for the ones with sentimental value,
do they merit drawer space even though
they're faded and stained
but throwing them out seems like an act of betrayal?
I really need to work this out.
Right now, even as I write,
my bed is piled high with my lifetime collection
and I'm dealing with these difficult decisions.
Okay, I've decided.
Sentiment be damned.
I'm going for good looks.
Exotic places.
And a two-drawer limit.


© Ellen Azorin