What Once Was Shall Once More Be

Recently, I lost my “I’m The Best” t-shirt. It was a savage blow, because it was pretty much my best t-shirt. I reminisced about the times we had together; the parties, the mornings after parties. I wore that shirt all the way across Central America. I truly was The Best. But one day I realized I hadn’t seen it in a while, and the next two weeks brought on the realization that, like the One Ring, it had left me of its own volition.

I was bitter for a while. Unable to come to terms with the fact that my Best shirt had left me. One day though, in a moment of clarity, I suddenly understood. It wasn’t the shirt’s fault. I was no longer The Best. I thought back to the weeks surrounding the loss of my t-shirt and realized I had definitely not been at my Best. I was sad, unproductive, a shadow of my recent self, much more like my former. I had let myself go in a sense, and lost my The Best status as a result. I felt better after that, about the loss of my t-shirt. I realized that the loss of the t-shirt was actually a helpful reminder that I was slipping again. I immediately cheered up, started eating better, and writing again.

Later that week I was explaining to Catfish my theories of why the shirt was gone, of why I was no longer The Best, and that somebody out there who is more deserving must now be wearing it. He agreed with my synopsis and told me that some day perhaps it would come back to me. I smiled at that. Maybe it would. That night I was in the studio and I noticed something dark sticking out from under my drum kit. I reached down, pulled out a handful of fabric, and as I unfolded it those unmistakable glittery rainbow letters jumped out at me, virtually screaming "I’m The Best." It was back, again of its own volition, with its rightful owner.

Some of you might say, “Obviously you threw your shirt off in a fit of joy while playing drums!” and some of you might even be right in a technical sense, but you would be ignoring the deeper meaning. You’d be disregarding the power of the Cosmos, and its ability to bend Fate to its will. I choose to look at it from a far more philosophical, perhaps even fantastic angle. I believe the t-shirt really was gone and then re-appeared, much like it appeared to me the day I first found it, as if out of thin air. I believe the realization that indeed it is possible for me to become less than Best was enough to restore my errant Best-itude. I just needed that gentle reminder that I am not the Pope. I am fallible, and bound to slip up every once in a while. The key is to recognize when I’m slipping and grab hold of something before I end up back at the bottom of the slope, clawing with bloody fingernails to regain my rank, because by then it could be too late. Usurpers are ever lurking, looking to exploit weakness, and I shan't show them any more if I can help it.

It’s good to be King.