‘Picture day’ a painful reminder of the way I was

Published 8:42 am Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Commentary by Adam Smith

The North Jefferson News



Alabamians were handed a rare, once-a-year gift this past weekend with the sales tax holiday.

The holiday allowed folks in north Jefferson County to save about eight cents on every dollar in select local cities where items like clothes, electronics, pencils and crayons can be purchased.

I did not go shopping, opting instead to live out the whole experience from the comfort of my couch via news coverage of the holiday. I did not have a need to buy a new computer, pencils, crayons, clothes or diapers (see Danielle’s column below).

As an adult, I only purchase clothes about once a year, and that’s only when a pair of slacks is eaten in the washing machine or if I neglect to take a pen out of my shirt pocket. I hate clothes shopping, to say the least.

I hated clothes shopping when I was in school, too. If I was ever accused of looking like my mom or sister dressed me during my elementary or high school days (daze), it’s because it was true. When in the mall, I would have rather have been at Pocket Time (the arcade) or in Newsom’s (record store) browsing through the latest batch of $3.99 discounted cassettes.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t wear cassettes or tokens to school, so I had to brave the task of finding something to wear from the time school started back until the end of the first semester. It was then, at Christmas time, I would get another batch of ill-fitting clothes that would take me through the rest of the year until the process started over again.

Anyone wanting a good belly-busting laugh could find such by browsing through my elementary and high school annuals and taking a look at whatever I was wearing on “picture day.”

From grades kindergarten through fourth grade, I had an ever-present cowlick somewhere near the rear of my head. However, I’m sure I was unaware of the fact as I smiled a mangled smile while wearing a pull-over shirt or sweater that was about two sizes too small.

From fifth grade up until about ninth grade, one can follow the trajectory of 1980s through early 1990’s fad wear. I was the king of high fashion as I sported such brands as Ocean Pacific, Hobie, Bugle Boy, British Knights and Duck Head apparel.

The fads of my youth are really no different from the fads of today. I’m sure some day, “crocs” and “slides” will go the way of the black Nike high-top, of which I must have owned five or six pairs. They were ugly and uncomfortable, but they allowed you to kick a football or kickball some major distances.

By the time I was a sophomore in high school, I had figured out a way to ditch “picture day,” and thus I made it a point to be scarce in my high school annuals of my sophomore and junior years. Unless I was pictured with the rest of the band geeks, I was not to be seen in my annual those years. I didn’t want to risk being photographed with yet another cowlick wearing clothes that I knew would be outdated in 10 years.

I’m sure I probably walked to “picture day” with the rest of my class, but probably found myself hanging out behind the school gymnasium with people who wore jean jackets, smoked cigarettes and spat on the ground. They, like me, didn’t want to be photographed. We were vampires. Our image could not be captured.

Now that I’m old, I wear slacks and dress shirts. On the weekends, I wear jeans and the occasional shirt that’s two sizes too small while browsing through $3.99 tapes at the local record store. I sometimes have a cowlick.

However, if you want to take my picture, I’ll be out by the gym in my jean jacket, smoking and spitting on the ground.

Old habits die hard.