Well hello again.
One T is several inches tall and wears a small replica race bib with my runner number on it. He sits on my desk in the Apartment and guards my messes there. The smaller one, hereafter known as Tiny T, is Polly Pocket size and has been joining me on all kinds of adventures, farm related and otherwise, ever since that Sunday.
Tiny T supports the slow food movement for sure.
So now you have met Tiny T, and I am wondering if you love him as much as I do.
For many passionate reasons I just can’t get enough Mr. T. And no, it’s not embarrassing at all. Frankly I don’t understand why more people DON’T love him.
- Mr. T. wears as many dang necklaces as he wants. Sorta like me, but even more.
- He has the coolest hairstyle and beard, way cool, not that I would dare copy such coolness. James Harden has it goin’ on, but he was not the first.
- Mr. T used to carry around the biggest, bulkiest boombox just to strut through life bathed in the aura of good music. Who else is that cool? Nobody. Now we all settle for earbuds. At least some of us do still strut through life.
- Mr. T always seems to wearing a great threadbare denim jacket. Surely I don’t have to explain this.
- Mr. T is strong and capable and fearsome; but he admits his weakness, which is a debilitating fear of flying (at least in the role of B.A. in The A Team). I admire anyone who doesn’t try to conceal his flaws.
- Finally? He never tolerates sleeves. The original t-shirt surgeon.