Unsung Heroes

I was cleaning out my portion of the dresser yesterday when I finally decided to reduce my considerable collection of white T-shirts.

As I did so, seeking out the ones in the proper size(M) and dumping the older, bigger ones from my younger, bigger days, I began to realize just how important these unassuming little shirts are.

The basic white T, bought in packs of three or ten, depending on where you go, really are the workhorses of the American male wardrobe. They absorb our sweat so the more expensive, nicer looking shirts and sweaters on top won't smell. When you paint a room, work on your car, shampoo the carpet, wash the car, or pack up and move, you don't reach for the $30 dress shirt you were roped into buying by the overly aggressive salesman at Men's Wearhouse.

You put on a pair of jeans and one of your trusty white Ts.

After a long life of hard work, protecting you from paint, soap, sawdust and oil, soaking up copious amounts of sweat and getting shoved unceremoniously into the bottom drawer, what do they get? The lucky ones go on to Goodwill, where working class folks and philosophy majors will pick through them, taking them on for a while.

But, in the end, when the fibers no longer hold together in a recognizable fashion: Rags. For oil, for spills, for the dog to chew.

Let us take a moment to remember those unsung heroes of the masculine dresser.