The
year was 2016, and I was in Myrtle Beach.
The
famous one. South Carolina.
Hurricane
Hermine was sweeping along, up and across Florida, heading into
Georgia and toward—because, of course—Myrtle Beach.
As
you might imagine, plans change when you’re driving along the
east coast of the United States, moving from the north to the
south, and learn of a hurricane moving south to north. This is
especially true when that south to north storm movement is, pretty
darn perfectly, bringing that hurricane into the same states and
locations you plan to visit, meandering as if using the same GPS
as you since the roadways that you expect to include in your travels
are more or less directly underneath the projected storm path
on the map.
New
plans meant an extra day in Myrtle Beach. And, that extra day
was toying with my count for clothes. I hadn’t packed a lot for
the trip because there was a washer and a dryer in the unit at
the resort. I was probably going to be fine, but I figured I might
be able to use an extra t-shirt or two if I happened to see one.
Safe instead of sorry. You get the idea. Not exactly a must purchase.
Not exactly a no. So, during the wandering of the day, I was looking
here and there from store to store for shirts.
Happened
to be out and about, having lunch and doing a bit of sightseeing,
and found a shirt I liked. Price was right. Size was right. Bought
the shirt.
Was
the shirt amazingly unique and different and amazing? Let’s say
I opened up Word and inserted an image of a blank navy blue t-shirt.
(Yes, Word.) In 15 minutes, you would have been able to design
a shirt of equally intricate detail. Even if I tied your hands
behind you back and faced you away from the monitor. Plus, you
would have had enough time remaining to look up some information
about Hurricane Hermine.
Yeah,
it was a nice shirt. It is a nice shirt. I like it. But it wasn’t
one of the most original souvenir shirts you’ve ever seen. Oars
cross over the wording of Myrtle Beach, SC, with an established
in date tossed on. I’ll call it vanilla navy blue and leave it
right there for your consideration.
Crazy
thing is, the shirt has held up brilliantly. Eight years later
it’s still in terrific shape, with the design in good condition.
A
few weeks ago, I was standing in my bedroom, packing for a drive
down the east coast. Wanted to switch up my laundry, change some
shirts, since my plans had been involving stays in the destination
area for a bit. And—you probably understand already since I’ve
invested this long of an introduction into it—I grabbed the Myrtle
Beach shirt.
About
thirty hours and some thousand miles of driving after zipping
a suitcase closed, I was standing next to my car, filling the
tank at a gas station in Georgia. Two dogs sleeping in the back
seat, and we were twenty or so minutes from the Florida border.
A
storm was in the area. Motorcycle seeking shelter, rider inside
while it sat parked in the same lane as us under the awning-roof-thingy
over the fuel pumps. In the next lane was a motor home.
Funny
thing about that motor home. As I was finishing up, I was looking
toward it, and the image honestly struck me as though the motor
home would look absolutely no different if it was in a campsite
settled in for an extended stay. It truly felt as if whoever the
owner or owners of the vehicle happened to be, they were at the
gas pump for a long weekend, closer to preparing a campfire than
to avoiding the rain on the highway or addressing an empty gas
tank. That image at the finishing stages of forming was when the
door on the side opened up and a man came down the steps.
He
made eye contact and nodded a greeting toward me. I responded
in kind, but a bit silently and not really able to blink.
He
was wearing a navy blue Myrtle Beach t-shirt.
Yes.
THAT navy blue Myrtle Beach t-shirt.
EXACTLY
that navy blue Myrtle Beach t-shirt.
How
often do you see someone wearing the same clothes you own?
Now,
yes, let’s toss some possibilities out of consideration. Not talking
about jeans. Not talking about sneakers. This isn’t about really
basic items. Nor is it being at a concert or in a theme park,
where everyone is wearing some branded item of clothing and there
are dozens of mouse ears on display.
None
of those general concepts in place for matching outfits here.
You bought a t-shirt almost ten years ago and are standing in
a different state. Having packed that shirt into a suitcase the
day before, you now watch as a man exits the main area of a caravan
from his campsite at the gas station wearing the same shirt.
That
was the situation I found myself in. And today, I still feel as
if I’m spinning around in the opening scene of a science-fiction
effort.
“Imagine
a man, finding himself in possession of the same ten-year-old
novelty clothing as a random man on the street. Is it, unknown
to him, an iconic design? It is, beyond his belief, a startling
coincidence? Is it, as daylight settles in and the rain clouds
pass overhead, that he has entered a new dimension of sight
and sound…”