Waking Up Old

So we went to this estate sale.  It has been two years or so since.  I bought three shirts in their original packaging.  I remember thinking that you know you are old when you buy clothes and keep them new with tags for the day when the old ones are worn out.  For some items the day never comes.  You are careful with your things.  If you do something that may damage clothing, you put on special duds reserved for the activity (I have a pair of pants and a shirt that I wear every time I paint).  New clothes remain in your drawer waiting to be called into duty.  Some never get activated.  

My guess is the shirts I bought were owned by a fella who passed away before he got a chance to wear them.  No need to guess with the googles at hand.  Isn’t always the right answer, though.  Here the only fella google knows with his name seems to be a model who is alive and well.  How do I know his name?  I bought what I believe to be his weekender bag (which had a name tag).

I also bought his stapler.  

Two of the shirts have been opened, washed and worn many times.  One remains in the packaging.  I love the $5.00 price tag from the manufacturer.  The retailer had a price on back, too.  $5.00.  The good old days of price fixing at the manufacturer’s level.

As I was patching a pair of jeans this morning (why didn’t anyone tell me how much fun iron-on patches are), I remembered the shirt in my closet, as well as a second pair of Pointer Brand jeans new with tags (I bought two pairs and am enjoying one until it wears out, which may be a long time since I care for my clothes and have three more iron-on patches).  I am not saying I am anywhere near old enough for this shirt or my jeans to be soldiers I leave behind, but one never knows. 

So I am a man with new clothes with tags, the sum total of which may be enough to carry me to the end of the war.  This is why old people often wear out of date clothes.  They bought more than they needed when they had a few extra dollars in their pocket and at some point they realized they had enough and stopped buying.  Their closet is a time capsule of goodness from a few decades hence.  Might not be so obvious with me.  Since high school I have consistently worn vintage clothing.  As I have reported here, some of my clothes are still from high school!  Or maybe it is obvious.  I don’t care one wit whit.  It makes me laugh.

Passover is a memory.  Waffles and coffee for breakfast today.  A growler of Scottish Light from the Pump Station to go with dinner tonight.  All grains and yeasts are back on the menu.   Small victories.


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