I know.
It seems most of my stories are set when I was in high school or thereabouts. As if I had accomplished nothing of note since then. And that would be true I suppose. I mean, hey, I've accomplished a thing or two, really I have. But those stories are not likely things I should post in public it seems. Oh well, someday I will again do things worthy of telling in a story. Eh, who am I kidding? I peaked at 16 and it's been all down hill from there.
Anyway...
Way back when in a different time and place (Sleepy Va town 198-sumpin sumpin)
I was a strange child. I was one of a handful of devotees of the new punk rock movement from England (Clash/Pistols etc) and in my mind staunchly the very picture of rebellion. Not in the way of the emerging "fashion punks" or "poser punk" movement for chrissakes. My entire "look" consisted of spikey hair and jeans and a t-shirt. Hard to imagine now but back then that was straight up rebellion. My sworn enemy were the alligator shirt/khaki pant wearing "preps". There were also the remnant of hippie/Zeppelin types known as "heads" but nobody payed them much mind. Mind you I moved freely amoungst the Prep world. I shared their AP classes and played football and stuff and some of the girls thought I was cute enough so I was the accepted face of punk rebellion for them. But all of that is beside the point.
The main point was to keep my street cred I could not waver and give in to the little clothes trends of the Preps, I could never be one of them!
My mom trying to be helpful comes home with some clothes for me one day she had gotten on sale. No! Not the dreaded alligator shirt though, she knew better than that, but old style rugby shirts with the white collar. I am sure my face betrayed my dismay and she asked if she needed to take them back or something, she had payed nearly nothing for them and had thought I'd like them. Feeling bad I told her no, but that I might "make modifications" to it. Because even worse than conforming with Alligator Nation would have been wearing the uniform de rigeur of a few years before. Trying to fit in but being a few years behind, now what is more pitiful than that? Should I roll up my jeans and wear a "Fonzie say "ehhhhh" t-shirt?
Anyway, my modification was to cut the sleeves without hemming which left them jagged and then with my eyes closed ripping at the shirt with a knife. NOW, this shirt was interesting. I proudly then wore this shirt to school. Even better, my first period teacher sent me to the principle's office with a note that I was wearing a "distracting" shirt. Heh. The principle looked at me and just shook his head repeatedly. As if he was thinking "dear god, I could use a drink right now". He asked why I was wearing such a "tattered" shirt. I told him my parents were poor and this was in fact my best "sunday go to meeting" shirt. This might have been more effective if he did not in fact know my father. Still...
He told me to go to my locker and get a jacket and leave it on the rest of the day. I asked why my shirt was not acceptable at school. He said it was "not a functional shirt" as it was "tattered and torn". I began a brief discussion of what constitues a "functional shirt" but was shushed and I figured I'd pushed my luck as far as I could without getting suspended.
Now in our current world where 12 year old girls get their whoo-haws pierced I am sure this all sounds quite tame. But back in 80-sumpin' sumpin' it was quite the rebel moment. It was all over school about me and my shirt. Out during morning break girls came up to me and wanted to see it. So I'd open my jacket and flash away. They would giggle and whisper amoungst themselves afterward. It was a good image move for me I think. Or they were laughing at me in a bad way. Whatever, I was the center of attention.
But how to top this, and be even more of a legend. That was the question.
In a moment of artistic clarity and inspiration, I raided my dad's tool chest and got some black electric tape out. I then patched the tears and rips with the tape. My shirt could no longer be called "unfunctional' due to having holes, now could it?
The next week I return to school wearing my repaired shirt. The classroom goes beserk when I walk in with it on. I again am sent to the principles office for causing a distraction. The principle at this point appeared to be no longer finding much humor in the whole thing. I explained my shirt no longer had holes and therefore should be fully functional. He pulled out the policy manual that had a rule about "clothing of an inappropriate or distracting nature" not being okay. He made a copy of this and made me sign it and then take it home to be signed by my parents. Yeah well, party over.
It would seem that this would bring a conclusion to the saga of the tattered rugby shirt. But it does not!
A few years later, while digging in the trash bags I'd moved out from home in, I found the old shirt. The tape was half on, half off and it appeared to be much worse for wear. I had a show in downtown Roanoke that night with my band so I decided to don that famous shirt one more time. Several people exclaimed from the audience "awesome shirt!" or something like that. Towards the end of the show I ripped it more accidentally. It was at this moment that my girlfriend and a friend of hers rushed the stage and tore my shirt off of me ala Beatlemania. They were a tad on the inebriated side you might say. In fact they left huge scratches all over my back and chest. And yes I found the whole thing more than a little bit of a turn on. ahem.
Welllll...it does not even end there!
Not two weeks later I go to the same club to watch whatever band was playing and what do I see? The lead singer and guitarist and both sporting rugby shirts ripped up and held together with electric tape. Yep. I had started a fashion craze.
And it does not end even there.
Fast forward to this very morning sumpin'sumpin' years later. As I am coming in from the parking lot to the Center two teenagers are walking in wearing old style rugby shirts and rolled up jeans! WTF? Is this "in style" now? My Gawd!
If it is it won't be long before some kid starts wearing a ripped up one around town maybe even with tape. And when you see it think of me and how I rocked that very trend back in the day. Nothing is new under the sun. That is for certain.
For now the tale ends here.

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