The other day, as I was walking into Target to purchase a few necessities, I noticed a guy probably around 55 years of age, balding (as I am), pot-bellied (as I am not), with a “James Gang” tshirt covering said belly, revealing not only his approximate highschool and college years, but his personal musical aesthetic.
As I strode past him in my skater/punk attire (black shorts, black 2.13.61 tshirt, and skate shoes), I must be honest — my first inclination was to mock him. Not for his musical taste. I mean, the James Gang was killer, and gave us Funk #49. No, I think my inclination toward mockery came out of some inner-psyche-defense mechanism. In a moment of self-discovery and awareness, I reflected on my own “look”, and wondered how many 20-something hipster dudes wearing girls pants would get a big laugh out of me today.
And so my initial reaction of “damn, what happened to that guy” morphed into a deep appreciation for his awesomeness and refusal to let go of what was good in his life. Always move forward, but keep the good stuff.
Rock on, Mr. James Gang Tshirt Guy.
Damn you’re getting old…