In 2003 I attended a sponsored golf game in Indiana.  I cannot even remember the golf course but it was an event run by Kem Krest one of our distributor/partners in supplying lubricants to the auto industry.   An obscure special lubricant that I do not remember, but their major supplier was Texaco.  Because we had a good piece of the business the sales guy reporting to me on the Kem Krest account invited me to their annual event in some obscure course in Indiana.

In those days it was a regular boon doogle to attend these events.  Justified because there could be engineers from GM or Ford attending so you could possibly convince them to switch all their factory fill to Petro-Canada.  Unfortunately this was such a minor specialty that there was no one in a significant decision-making position at the OEMs that attended.

Granted I knew this going in, but when you are in sales you take the benefits when they come.

So we show up at the tournament/event and everyone is given a sleeve of balls and a golf shirt.

Over the years I have received dozens of golf shirts at these business events.  I have golf shirts from great golf courses in Ontario, Michigan and California.  But they are all that mixture of cotton and synthetic blend that shows the logo well but after a few washes the lower rim creeps up.  A beautiful golf shirt that fits through the chest but unless you pin it to your undershorts it reveals your belly button.

The Kem Krest gift was a ribbed white 100% cotton shirt that had the unique design of being very long.  Not an impressive shirt, but very, very comfortable.

In the last few years this was my go-to shirt for summer hikes and working in the garden.  Regularly washed by Pat every time.  The more it was washed the better it felt, but the more it aged, the more it looked aged.  A little fraying at the sleeves, mysterious holes on the chest and a slit on the right sleeve.

Pat and I went on a club hike today north of Campbell River.  Only 8 km but it involved 19 Geocaches (where our team found 16).  We celebrated by stopping in to a Pub in Campbell River for a beer.  (Pat of course had a small glass of Chardonnay).  Apparently some comments were made about my great shirt that, admittedly looks like something a homeless person would have thrown out.

Now the guys would accept that this is a comfortable shirt, but Pat could see the eyebrow lifts from the women saying “you let your husband go out in public in this shirt?”

Pat recovered by poking holes in the shirt on the arms and chest and saying “if this is what my beloved husband wants to wear, I support him”.

Actually that is not accurate.  All I know is that tonight my shirt goes into the laundry and then in the rag pile.

I only write this blog because as I turn over this shirt I was looking at the logos and remembering the event.  I will regret losing it.