Stacks and stacks of vinyl records, many of which I would never listen to; books I had read and would probably never open again; a mishmash of magazine clippings; pencils so short and worn they no longer fit in any sharpener. It all just kept piling up.
T-shirts are part of this, and they naturally pile up there. They’re cheap, so whenever I see one that catches my eye, I buy it. People from all over the world send me novelty t-shirts, I get commemorative t-shirts for every marathon I run, and when I travel, I often choose to buy a few extras rather than bring extra clothes. That’s why the number of t-shirts in my life has skyrocketed to the point where there’s no more room in my closet, and I have to store the overflowing pile in cardboard boxes and stack them on top of each other.
Whenever I arrive in the US, after leaving the airport and settling into the city, I always want to go out for a hamburger. It's a natural urge, but you can also think of it as my special ritual. Either way, it's fine.
Ideally, I go to a hamburger joint around 1:30, after the lunch crowd has left, sit down at the counter, order a Coors Light on tap and a cheeseburger. I like my patty medium, and I always choose raw onions, tomato, lettuce, and pickles. Add a side of fries and a side of coleslaw. The essential accompaniment to all this is mustard (it has to be Dijon) and Heinz ketchup. I sit there, quietly sipping my Coors Light, listening to the chatter of the people around me and the clatter of dishes, taking in the atmosphere of this different land while I wait for my hamburger to arrive. That’s when I realize, oh yes, I am really in America.
This t-shirt has a very straightforward message: "I pour ketchup on the ketchup" (I put ketchup on my ketchup). And that, is a statement from someone who loves ketchup. It's a bit of a jab at Americans for putting ketchup on everything, but I find it interesting that one of the companies that makes this shirt is none other than Heinz. It's a self-deprecating joke, but you can't help but feel the American spirit in it, the optimism, the fun, the lack of deep thought: "Who cares about fancy fashion! I just do what I want!".
When I wear this shirt around town, Americans sometimes call out, "Nice shirt!" They usually have that "I love ketchup" look on their face. Sometimes I want to say, "Hey, don't lump me in with you!", but usually I just cheerfully say, "Yeah, pretty cool, huh? Ha ha." This kind of T-shirt communication makes things a lot more lively. You never see that happen in Europe. Because, generally, Europeans hardly ever eat ketchup.
This shirt is from the Ventura Surf Shop, in Ventura, a wealthy surfing mecca near Santa Barbara. It sounds pretty cool, but will going there actually improve your life? I can’t say.
Whenever I go to the US I drink a lot of Heineken. In crowded, loud bars where you have to shout to order, I discovered that there is one brand that I can pronounce pretty well, and that is Heineken.
You have to be brave to wear a car-related shirt. It's hard to say when I'd wear this Shelby Cobra shirt, but I think it would look great paired with a Comme des Garçons jacket.
This is a shirt from the British magazine The Economist. The message is stylish, but it is still just a shirt, and it makes me wonder how to react to such an unexpected, challenging quote.
When I attended the Reykjavík International Literature Festival, I gave a talk at this university. The total population of Iceland is only 350,000, and yet there were 10,000 students there. A pretty amazing percentage.
I bought this Ramones T-shirt at a secondhand store called Bookoff in Kyoto. But I can’t wear it out in public. When you’re over 70, there are a lot of limitations.
