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…my good friend Milan gave me this t-shirt as a present for my 25th birthday.
Here’s a closer look just in case you can’t make it out.
I got this shirt two weeks to the day after September 11th. Needless to say, it wasn’t the most popular article of clothing to be wearing right on the heels of the nation’s worst terrorist attack, especially while living in Ohio.
In those months that followed, I got a lot of dirty looks from people while out in public. Once, while waiting in line at a grocery store, a cashier mumbled something under her breath about me being either a traitor or a terrorist. She spoke loud enough for me to hear her, but soft enough for me not to fully make it out.
Still, I wore this shirt with pride for the rest of George W. Bush’s presidency. Actually, I continued to wear it well into Obama’s first term, mostly just to remind myself of what dark times we had just emerged from.
For those eight years, while running Tastes Like Chicken, my friends and I went after Bush every chance we got. I’m not proud of everything we did and said in those years, but a lot of those funny little jabs still hold up today.
Especially this one.
But those years are now in the past (thankfully) and George W. Bush is mostly forgotten. Of course, over time he’ll probably become a glowing poster boy of pride for the GOP, but that won’t ever change my opinion of him.
He’s still not my president. And I don’t have to wear a t-shirt anymore to prove it.
I’ve had this shirt for more than eleven years. It feels great to finally get rid of it.
Heading to Goodwill,