If you want to see mice or princesses

A few years back, I paid large amounts of money to go to an upscale theme-park and see mice. After that experience, I’m seriously thinking about charging admission to my garage. You can see a whole bunch of mice there. As well as lots of spiders. Then again, those mice aren’t as tall as the ones in Florida, and they don’t wear designer clothes. However,  what Florida has in quality, my garage surely makes up in quantity.

Also, I must admit, the Disney mouse place is known for its princesses in ball gowns.  It doesn’t matter if the princess lives in a desert, or grew up wearing buckskin, or even has a fish tail, Disney World can figure out a way to put her in a heavy-traditional-debutante ball gown. It doesn’t work for me, but hey they have more money than I do. So, they must be doing something right.

Go someplace else

Perhaps, my idea could still work if I put my wife, daughter, cat, and rabbit in color coded gowns. Then I’d surely have the advantage. As near as I can remember, the only thing their white rabbit wears is a waistcoat, and the cat is pink and purple striped. Obviously, a cheap dye-job to attract publicity. Then again, just the thought of putting anything on Capn’ Blood, clothing or dye, causing pain. The reality would probably cause hospitalization, and Baby-Bun-Bun isn’t much better. To say nothing of my daughter, who believes nice-clothing only exists for her sole pleasure of destroying it.

Okay, so maybe my idea won’t make as much as Disney World, but it’s good to think of things and keep your options open. One thing I could never duplicate from princess and mouse land is the lines. That place has lines everywhere. And they are so proud of their lines, rotating them through little mini-shows before you even get to the show or ride you wanted. Seriously, you can actually have a good time while waiting for the line to move, so you can start waiting for the attraction. It’s really cool.

My wierd uncle…

This would really have disappointed my uncle Steve. When he was younger, he loved getting into long lines so he could read people’s T-shirts. He always said, “Back then, a T-shirt was a person’s identity. An expression of self, which proved your uniqueness, and made a statement of who you were and what you stood for.” I guess old Steve drank a lot in his early years. Who knew?

With that attitude, it’s probably better he lives far away. T-shirts nowadays are more likely to identify the store you bought it from, rather than your personal credo. Of course, I grew up with my uncle. The first time I saw a Gap tee, I wondered what it meant. Was the guy trying to say there was a learning gap for poor students, or a vacuous gap between his ears?

and how he ruined my life

The first time I saw a Tommy Hilfinger tee, it was being worn by a girl. This had all kinds of strange connotations. Was she named badly? Was Tommy her boyfriend? Did she borrow her father’s or brother’s shirt that day? Was she remembering her favorite pet squirrel who died in a tragic bulldozer accident? Who knows? If you’re a student of my uncle’s generation, the possibilities are endless.

Then she dropped her purse. As a nice person I wanted to call out and tell her. I called, “Hey Tommy!” several times, but she never answered. She was walking away, and the crowd was filling in. I was going to lose her, and she was going to lose her purse. Finally, out of desperation I yelled, “Hey you! Hot girl with the big honkers, in the blue shirt. You dropped your purse.”

Well, that got her attention. She came back, took her purse from me, and then hit me with it. Several times! Then she pressed charges. Of course, all’s well that ends well. After she filed all charges, but before she left the police station, she asked me if I really thought she was hot. I answered yes, and we had dinner when I got out of jail. After a doctor saw to my bruises. She even convinced the judge to commute my sentence to time-served, and community service two days later. Ain’t love grand.

The truth according to Mr. Ohh! and ELP

I know better now. Ninety percent of all the T-shirts worn are just advertisements for somebody. I’m guilty of it myself. Remember, I wanted to compete against Disney. Well, as I live and breathe, I own four of their shirts. I also have a T-shirt which says I love Adidas trainers, but if you look at my shoes they’re Converse. My whole life is a lie.

The thing is, I’m ragging on uncle Steve’s T-shirt philosophy, but he’s not even remotely close to the only one. I found, a song by Emmerson, Lake, and Palmer, called; Nobody Loves You Like I Do.  In it there is this poignant lyric:

“You can rent your blues, and photograph your soul. You can even dig some diamonds out of Rock-n-Roll. You can change the world, but if you lose control, They will take away your T-shirt!”

 Yea I’m sure they were smoking something when they wrote that, but the last bit agrees with my uncle. If you lose control, they will take away your identity, your slogan, your uniqueness. In a word, your T-shirt.

Okay forget ELP

I’m not sure how all this falls into the fact that no one loves you like I do, unless I’m at home protecting your clothing with automatic rifles and explosives. Or I might love you so much, I’m helping you rent your blues. Of course, if your blues rent expired, you’d probably be happier. If I loved you, I’d stop you from renting those blues. Also, if I loved you, it’d be unlikely I’d want to see a photograph of your soul. Yuck!

I would help you dig for diamonds, but I’d probably direct you to South Africa, not rock-n-roll, but that’s just me. Frankly, it’s all very confusing, and really doesn’t prove my point like I thought it would. If nobody loved you like I did, I would probably never introduce you to this song at all. So, all my fans out there forget I mentioned it, and I’ll just go back to making fun of my uncle’s stupid philosophy. It’s a whole lot easier.

The confusing part

Whether it’s your identity or not, wearing a commercial is just silly. What if I purchased a shirt saying Tiffany Jewelers? What does that say about me? It says I shop at expensive New York stores, but all I can afford there is their not-so-cheap T-shirt. Or that I shop in the classiest places in the world, but I’m so low brow, that T-shirts are better that diamonds. Even, when they were dug out of rock-n-roll!

What if you hook up with a girl who wears Victoria’s Secret T-shirts, but you find out later she wears Walmart underwear. Can she be arrested for false advertising?

The questions are mind-blowing. Maybe we need to go back to my uncle’s system. It was a much simpler time.

Here’s the song. Ps. I got it wrong in the recorging