THE SHIRT SERIES, PART IV
The Pirate Shirt
Jaunty, this is!!
This is a special edition of a recurring segment in which the author debates the merits of his shirts. (See also The French Blue Shirt and The Lime Green Shirt and The Darth Vader Shirt) Archeologists found this parchment scroll from 1755 stuffed inside a pirate chest recently discovered just west of Turks & Caicos. The author’s distant ancestor, cited in oral histories as T.K. the Ambivalent, is having an internal argument both for and against retaining his frilly black pirate shirt. It has been edited for length and clarity.
Blast, man! Naught but addle-pates don a black shirt in the Caribbean. Broilin’ like a lobster in that, we are. Chuck that rag in the drink — four fathoms deep.
Ye has no style whatsoe’er. Twice-blessed by the beauty gods am I to compensate for yer deficiencies, I reckon. This bonny shirt and I are just gettin’ to know each other.
Fixin’ to retain this blight means yer noggin’s a’ready baked to a crisp. Let the sharks wear it, says I.
Have ye the memory span of a sea squirt? High times had we in this blouse. Broad bully piracy there was, the clank of crossed steel. We croaked a hundred bawdy songs at midnight swathed in this black banner.
We took the scurvy in it too. The clap as well. If ye call pissing fire “high times,” then words’ve lost all meaning, for true.
It matches me big hat. Fierce, it is. The black. Like the Jolly Roger. Whil’st I breathe mortal air, sir, I’ll ne’er strike these colors.
Are we posin’ for an oil paintin’? Are we havin’ tea and cakes with the Guv’nor of Jamaica? No one gives a kraken’s knob what we wear out here and ye know it.
Look good, feel good, says I. Festive in this, am I. Life’s a grand sweet jug o’ rum and I’m flappin’ free in the mainsails. Have ye no spirit of romance at all?
Zounds, man, we’ve got tiny worms doin’ the backstroke in our poo and you parley on about romance.
Pray, Cap’n Fashion, what would you have us wear?
A crew neck jersey with the navy stripes, says I, like the rest of the tars on the Ambivalent. Serious. Manly. Not flouncin’ about like some preening popinjay.
Oh, serious is what ye prize now, is it? Bendin’ a knee to the lubbers now, are ye? What’s next? Chasin’ a plow? Countin’ the boss’s shillings in a muffin shoppe?
Avast, ye plague! Keel-haul the devil who says so!
Allow me to convey this urgent message to Yer Grace. We are a PIRATE!!! If you recall, failure to submit to a strict chain o’ command is the very reason we departed His Majesty’s Navy in the first place. Authority issues, we had, narwhal-sized.
Aye, them tyrannical toffs chafed us wondrous sore.
Slip’t the noose, we did! Traded the lash and the brig for the grandest treasure in all the globe — freedom!
Twere a day to remember! Strike me cockeyed if I ever gave a tin toss pot for their monied airs and graces.
Ye speak true and I’ll gibbet the rogue who dare stand against thee! Now answer me this, ye fine free pirate of a man: does folk such as we, bigger than life, gods on earth, wear what everyone else wears?
We’re back to the shirt…
Crew neck jerseys with stripes? Like the meanest pris’ner? I’ll walk the plank a hundred times afore! We broke our chains, did we not?
So by your stars, the reward fer all our courage is struttin’ around in this inky gob o’ seaweed? With frills, no less?
Own it, man! Preening popinjay is our brand!! A feature, it is, not a bug!!
Peace, sir. Hot, I am, and thirsty besides. Fine. We’ll keep it. But can we buy a new frilly shirt at least? When we get to Port Royal? This’un has got more rips than Davy Jones’ bunghole.
THAT’s the pirate I know and love! Course we can get a new ’un!
Mayhaps a shirt other than black this time? With plenty o’ frills, o’course. Goes without sayin’.
Not black?
A nice teal, perhaps? Or a dusty rose?
Hmmm. Could work. I’d have to try it on.
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Attention, pirates: “Wouldn’t You Rather Be Laughing?” Coming soon — MuddyUm’s much-anticipated first comedy anthology. Available On Lulu and Amazon.
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The T. Kent Jones omnibus never closes. Free Parking!
Click the skull. Join the party.
