Regrettable Outerwear

I'm about to share something really shocking with you. Shocking, and not a little sad. Nearly everyone has some sort of skeleton in their closet, whether it's the figurative skeleton of a past misdeed or indiscretion, the fact of a shameful family member, or maybe it's the literal skeleton of a family member hanging there behind your summer coats as a malodorous reminder of your shameful misdeeds. Whatever the case, most of us have something in our closets that we don't want exposed. Today, though, I'm going to bring mine out. My closet skeleton, the albatross of my storage space, is this:


Quake with terror at its garish patriotism! Quiver with vicarious school spirit! Squirm with laughter at the vivid moose mascot! Give in to the juvenile jokes about the P splashed across the chest! Ponder what in the hell I could possibly have lettered in in High School!

But wait, it gets even more absurd. I didn't just letter and wear that hideous thing with pride, I lettered in Drama. That's right. Drama. A letter for Drama. I'll let that sink in.

So, when I role my eyes at some amateur display on myspace and sigh and cock my head and say, "Pshh, whatever. That's weak, I lettered in drama!" you can rest assured that I am indeed for serious, yo.