I am the stain on the mustard colored shirt wondering how long I’ve got to live and what will happen when it stops being etiquette Tuesday and causal Friday is a thing of the past. Stains do not belong on formal clothing. They are a mark of slovenly manners, banishing a garment to the closet of items hardly worn and regularly forgotten. In the closet you become an after thought, or worse, the back up of the back up outfit –one step away from the Good Will or the trash. It’s better to be the guy in the mustard colored shirt in a sea of red, blue, and white, not knowing what you’re doing but having the opportunity to clasp your hands together in some form of pseudo-prayer, hoping to join along and feel the rhythm of the beat you can’t quite identify, than to be relegated to the quiet space of gently laid clothes belonging to no one.