Lost Journal

Humor Column
by Tim Mollen
April 6, 2006

Bicentennial T-shirt Deprivation

Journal Entry:  May 25, 1976 (age 7)

As a first-grader, I bring home lots of pieces of paper that my parents have to sign.  Please verify that I had swine flu last week.  Please give permission for me to attend the donkey basketball game in the St. Thomas Aquinas gym.  Please acknowledge that you are aware of the disturbing Hansel and Gretel diorama I made for show and tell.

Occasionally, the piece of paper will request that money be returned along with the signature.  Most of the time, I am given a check with no questions asked.  Yes, of course I can get supplies for art class.  Here’s the money for the field trip to the Tri-Cities Opera.  But as the youngest of six boys who require food, clothing and orthodontia, I have come to expect that some expenses will be rejected as frivolous.

So a few months ago, I wasn’t really surprised that my parents wouldn’t spring to buy me a red, white and blue T-shirt to celebrate the national bicentennial at school.  “The bicentennial is July 4, and you won’t be in school then,” they said.  I made a second attempt, pleading, “Everyone else is going to have one.”  The ease with which they brushed off this seemingly brilliant argument indicated they had heard it before.  “Oh well,” I thought, “what’s the big deal about a stupid shirt?”

Then came today, when we had our first-grade class photo taken.  Our teacher, Miss Pavia, had instructed us all to make sure we wore our bicentennial T-shirts.  And sure enough, all but a handful of my 30 classmates were resplendent in star-spangled shirts, emblazoned with the words “Happy Birthday U.S.A.”  As we gathered for the picture on the steps of the old St. Thomas Aquinas church, I noticed that even our principal, Sister Immaculata, was wearing one of the shirts.  I felt like a big loser.

One of my fellow T-shirt-deprived classmates, Nancy Leonard, had had the foresight to put together a kind of colonial period costume for the day.  She had a bonnet on, and looked kind of like Betsy Ross (or at least the Schoolhouse Rock version of Betsy Ross).  For my outfit, the best I had been able to come up with was a really loud, red, white and BLACK sweater.  I looked like the Ghost of Christmas Tacky. 

I felt a little bit better when I saw that the only other redhead in the class, Ann O’Rourke, also was not wearing the sanctioned garment.  As red-haired kids with blue eyes and white skin, I thought maybe we could play it off like we had already done our bit.  But even Ann had worn a short-sleeved T-shirt, so she looked at me a little funny.

So I just stood there in the noonday May sun, wearing my heavy wool sweater in the national colors of Trinidad and Tobago, and felt glad to be in a country that celebrates the individual.

© 2006 Tim Mollen

Share the funny and help promote Lost Journal:

BACK	INDEX	NEXT