photos by: William C. Brisick
Outerknown's Nostalgic Sweater stirred that exact feeling in me. As I peeled into the 2020 piece (so comfortable!), I was suddenly transported to my junior high school days, and what my sister and I refer to as "The Chocolate Chip Milkshake Incident". . .
We were in the kitchen, my little sister, Jennifer, and I. As usual, I was being an arrogant punk of an older brother, taunting her, telling her I would not share the chocolate chip milkshake I was making, and that it was going to be really delicious, I mean really delicious. I plopped three big scoops of ice cream into the glass blender jug, laughed as I cracked an egg into it, snickered as I poured in the milk (we were big on dairy in 1979).
My sister stood alongside and watched, her ratty baby blanket pressed to her face, her facial expression severely disappointed.
I smiled smugly as I pressed the blend button. The blender roared, the ingredients swirled. “Mmmmm, sure going to be good!” I said as I brought the jug to the kitchen table where I’d set a single tall glass.
Jennifer saw her moment. She whipped her baby blanket and it wrapped around the jug like some kind of rogue octopus arm, tearing it from my hand and sending it to the red-tile floor in a giant crash. Shattered glass. Chocolate chip milkshake everywhere.
Did my little sister giggle as I cleaned it up, an arduous task involving many paper towels and a mop and a dustpan? She most certainly did. Was I bummed about the milkshake? Yes, but even more bummed that it had splashed all over my beloved sweater, which had become like an appendage, an armor. Did I deserve it? Oh, I’m sure I probably did.