The Year of the T-Shirt

According to the Chinese calendar, 2020 was the Year of the Rat. Since the Chinese Zodiac doesn’t include skunks or honey badgers, I’d say a rat is an appropriate metaphor for 2020. 

Here at Woodhaven, with so much time to surf and a memorized credit card number and an eagerness to have shipped boxes provide some sense of excited anticipation for the future, 2020 proved to be the Year of the T-Shirt. 

Sorting through my unplanned collection, I realize my array of statement tees provides something of a reflection on the weirdness, the struggle, the hope, the humor, and the reality of what I truly pray is a Once in a Lifetime year. 

Because New Year’s Eve demands some reflection, join me on a little tour of 2020 T-Shirts: A Year in Review.

April 2020

I made this t-shirt myself (well, the print, not the actual shirt).  After a month in lockdown, Rob and I were venturing out soooo veeery carefully into grocery stores and take-out windows and curbside pick-ups.  I was overwhelmed by the courage, dedication, and kindness of the newly understood "essential workers."  I wanted a shirt that simply but sincerely spoke my heart to reinforce my words as the dedicated workers bravely served me.  Oddly, the only "Thank you" t-shirts I could find online mimicked the white plastic bags with red lettering that so many retailers use.  While close, I wanted something a little more personal and heartfelt.  A homemade stencil, some fabric paint, and a shirt carefully placed in my trunk by a masked Kohl's employee resulted in the first t-shirt in my 2020 collection.

May 2020

Still in quarantine but the sun is starting to shine, more is being learned about COVID-19, and panic is slowly being replaced by determination.  But hair is still uncut and Clorox wipes are better than gold and the novelty of Zoom is beginning to fade.  But it's fine.  I'm fine.  Everything is FINE. 

July 2020

Not surprisingly, my favorite shirt of the year.  Rules bring me comfort so I have been pretty compliant about mandates to wear masks and stay distant and limit my bubble and not gather in groups.  A determinedly Zen llama proclaiming social distance pretty much sums up my 2020 self. 

State rules at the time allowed for
unmasked speaking behind plexiglass. 
That changed in the Fall.

My inaugural wearing of my Llamastay t-shirt was for a surprise introduction on a Sunday morning in July.  Our church had been holding very scaled down, compliant, sparsely attended in-person services for several weeks. Nevertheless, we were all super excited to see each other and we started drifting towards each other in conversations after church.  Llama to the rescue!  I found Rona the Llama online (God bless Amazon).  She is 6 feet tall to the top of her ears.  She wanders around our church building, appearing in different places every couple Sundays.  She is a visual reminder of what 6 feet looks like.  Her sign says "Social Distancing Pro Tip:  Rona the Llama is 6 feet tall.  If she can face plant between you and hit you, you are too close!"  And yes, I am grateful and a bit mystified that my church family has continued to indulge my desire to worship with a (cardboard) llama.

August 2020

My self-directed Fair At Home was probably the highlight of the weirdness that COVID-19 demanded in 2020.  I refused to let the stupid microbe rob me of my most favorite time of the year, especially as it had smugly absconded with so much already.  It was an exhausting 10 days -- running a Fair is hard work!  But I had an absolute blast.  Learning about friends' hobbies, playing with neighbors, deep frying Dollar Tree's candy aisle.  All of it so different than my typical week of Fair and a desperately needed escape from reality.  Although I can not wait to get back on the road exploring state fairs as we did in 2019, I am grateful that COVID-19 inspired me to approach fairing in a new way this year.

September 2020

Lots of larger fairs this summer offered a drive-in experience through their fairgrounds to buy favorite snacks and get a literal taste of The Fair.  My beloved Clark County Fair was not able to convince enough vendors to give it a try, but the larger Washington State Fair was.  So one day in mid-September, Rob and I drove nearly 300 miles round trip to graze on a guilt-free array of roasted corn and Monster burgers and Dole Whip and corn dogs and garlic fries.  While it sounded delicious in concept, the fact that we were not allowed to stop to eat anything until we had exited the fairgrounds meant that most of our bounty was tepid and coagulating by the time we were able to eat it.  And I still have corn juice splurts sprinkled on my dashboard, mostly for the memories.  The best vendor was the souvenir stand at the end.  I'm not sure there is a better shirt representing the Pacific Northwest in 2020.

October 2020

Try as I might, I only lasted about 25 minutes watching the first Presidential debate.  But I watched long enough to hear what I was certain was destined to be an iconic catchphrase.  More memorable and iconic than Adm. James Stockdale's quip during the 1992 Vice Presidential debate with Dan Quayle ("Who am I?  Why am I here?").  (Rob and I have quoted him with some frequency over the years.)  So I snatched up this t-shirt to commemorate a moment in political history.  I've only worn the shirt a few times and suspect it will eventually live in the keepsake drawer with other mementos like my "GO/SH Who Will Be President?" t-shirt from the hanging chad 2000 Gore/Bush election.  Some people collect political buttons; apparently, I collect t-shirts.

December 2020

I bought this shirt in the Fall, and I have worn it a number of times.  And I am wearing it right now as it seems a fitting outfit for the last day of the year.  2020 has been hard.  One of the hardest of my life.  But not the hardest.  That honor goes to 2017 when I spent far too many days in hospitals as a visitor and actually had a running tally of how many airports I had cried in. But much like 2017, the struggles and challenges and hardships of 2020 have also produced unexpected lessons and insights and blessings.  It hasn't been a great year, but the t-shirt undersells it.  Nevertheless, I doubt I will have any problems remembering to write "21" on dates starting tomorrow.  2020 you were a trip and a half.  Thanks for the memories.  And now...onward.