X marks the spot

I remember a trip to Cape Cod.

I must have been somewhere between eight and eleven years old. I wish I had a better memory but they say it’s the second thing to go when you get older, I forget the first. Bada bing…Anywho. Myself, my brother, father, and mother decided to go to Cape Cod for a mini vacation to visit some relatives. Technically my brother and I had nothing to do with the decision. We were in grade school and if we were even allowed to stay home, as soon as that cookie jar was empty we would have been screwed.

I remember nothing about the trip there or the trip back. I fall asleep real easily in a moving vehicle, except planes. I get gassy. There I said it. So if you are they lady who was sitting in 21F on my last flight I am truly sorry. I tried to play it off by looking around for the perpetrator but deep down I know that you know it was me.

Back to the Cape.
The only think I do remember about that trip is going souvenir shopping in some open marketplace. I wasn’t a fussy shopper. How could I be? I didn’t have any money. I was allowed to get one thing to bring back to the farm with me. What ever should I get? I looked and looked. There were the usual trinkets with Cape Cod plastered on them. Most of these things did not appeal to me. What did I need a shot glass for? The giant novelty pencil would have been a hot topic when I got back to school. I could imagine the ohhs and ahhs from my fellow classmates. Now I knew what my souvenir had to do. It had to make me cool. And what make a grade schooler stand out more than anything? Anyone…anyone? Clothes! Whether it be new shoes, a cool hat, or some jams (remember them? They were really long shorts.), clothes made someone stand out. So what was it going to be for me? A new pair of shoes I could get anywhere so they were out. Plus I think if I asked my dad for new Jordan’s he would have laughed at me. What about a new hat with Cape Cod airbrushed into it? That could be cool. Oh wait, I can’t wear hats in class. They’re out too. So I was down to clothes. Was it going to be a t-shirt, sweatshirt, shorts, pants, maybe some cool sock gloves with the little toes pockets in them. Probably not the socks.

So here’s me the little farm boy searching through rack after rack of cheap Cape Cod clothes. I don’t know if I looked long or I saw it right away but when I saw it I knew it was the one. You ever see in a movie how they portray someone moving towards the camera like they are floating? No bobbing from walking just a smooth glide like the actor was floating on a cloud. When I think about seeing it for the first time and walking up to it this is what I picture in my head.

It wasn’t just one piece of clothing. It was a set. Like a salt and pepper shaker. It would seem odd to see one without the other. The shorts were your basic shorts. Nothing special. Deep red in color with a cheap elastic waist band. It didn’t even have pockets. The top was a baseball jersey style shirt. Buttons down the center. Matching the color of the shorts on one side and dark green on the other. The buttons weren’t the only thing attached to the jersey. Stitched down the side of the front of it was a name. A name I was not familiar with but it had a big X at the end of it so I thought it was pretty cool. And if I thought it was cool then my classmates must too. Right?
Written above the X was the name MALCOLM. So there I was. This little white farm boy begging his father who is trying politely to say no and not look like a racist for a shirt that really shouldn’t be worn by a little white farm boy. I had no idea who this person was or what he stood for. It looked cool and that was the only thing important to me. I begged and begged and finally my parents caved. YES! It was a small victory but one I still remembered to this day. The only thing I can’t remember is what happened to that damn outfit once we got back to the farm. This is purely speculative but I think my folks caved only to shut me up knowing all along that they could easily dispose of my victory once we got home. I don’t even remember getting to wear it to school to hear those ohhs and ahhs. My victory sure didn’t last very long.

I should have gotten the giant pencil.