That staple of concerts, the ubiquitous t-shirt: Fountain of youth or reminder that our glory days are long gone?
The young man behind the merchandise table smiled kindly as I told him I thought I could fit just fine into that size XL Sister Hazel t-shirt.
“Um, they um….”
“Run a little small?” I asked.
“Yes ma’am,” he nodded, obviously relieved that he wouldn’t have to tell me what I’d just deduced.
“I’ll take the next larger size then. And thank you.”
“For what, ma’am?”
“Your diplomacy.”
He blushed. It was all I could do not to pinch his cute little cheeks.
I like my new Sister Hazel t-shirt. It makes me feel 17 again. A much larger version of my 17-year-old self, but a more grounded one, as well. (Have to be grounded; jumping is completely out of the question these days.)
I couldn’t resist this one because my high school mascot was a Whirlwind. How cool is that?
If you look closely at the Floydada high school 1974 yearbook cover, below, you can see my 17-year-old self on the left side of the white space in the D, slightly behind the band mate in plaid pants. My forehead seems to be touching the dot in the exclamation mark.
Kind of like “Where’s Waldo” without all of the stripes.
Bottom line, I was meant to have the t-shirt with “Whirlwind Girl” blazoned across the front, even if it might be a bit snug across the chest.
Here’s the tune, Whirlwind Girl. It’s a fun song.
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 