Friday night reflections...

Today, like most days this week, was a blur. I spent the morning juggling phone calls between London and Las Vegas, arranging for GodTV's recording and rebroadcast of a PreCall rally scheduled for Sept 1. I learned the following....

• One must dial 011 and then another crazy series of numbers to call a Brit.
• Fiber optics. It's all fiber optics.
• You don't need to watch tv to talk to tv people.

This afternoon was a series of meetings and then a run to the laundramat to assist my bride and youngins'. We do not normally frequent the laundramat, but earlier this week we had The Incident. Without going into details, upon first glance, the plumber grew quietly confident that The Incident would a) send his daughter here or b) finance his 28 ft Chris Craft. As it turned out, The Incident was much cheaper to fix than either of us thought - about the price of a good steak dinner for four. His loss.

All that aside, we needed to make a laundry run because we had to catch up on lost laundry hours. We were all pretty much wearing the last clean things we owned. Now, all of our clothes are clean - we spent a long time tonight putting them away. It accentuated one thing to me. I own a freakin' boatload of black shirts.

I'm not sure when the black shirt thing started...I think about 2 1/2 years ago...but somewhere along the line, I decided that my uniform of choice was a black shirt, usually with jeans, although I'm not picky about my jeans. Last week, Kelsey bought me another one....when she pulled it out of the bag, I exclaimed "That's awesome." Jackson cracked up..."Dad, how is it any different than every other black shirt hanging in your closet?!?!".

At the time, I thought he was sort of exaggerating, but tonight, with them all hanging there, I see he's got a point. I have short sleeve and long sleeve, pull over and button up, but most of them are long sleeve button up. I have about four favorites. They're black. With long sleeves.

They're not all I wear, but I wear them enough that months ago, when I wore something else on the platform at church, the John and Tracie Loux both murmured to one another "He's not wearing black!"