When General Douglas MacArthur crept out out of the Philippines in 1942 he vowed one day to return. No one, especially not a corn-cob-chewin American likes leaving their business unfinished. And so it is with me and Texas. Last year I had to mothball the rig and head back to Seattle on a red-eye out of Houston, leaving a lot of t-shirts on the proverbial table.  My grand plans of crossing the country in search of all the shirts fit-to-be-found came grinding to a halt at the Texas/Louisiana border. But not one to leave a good idea undone, I am reporting to you from the Lone Star State that, at last, I have returned. This I mostly say to myself and all my Texas friends that I made promises to last year.

A big “Thank You” goes out to the crack team at Allen Samuels Chevrolet in Houston, TX, (Mr. X, Wayne and Tracy), who resurrected the Suburban after its year exiled in a storage yard on the north side of Houston. She’s as good as she ever was and now sits contently outside the  The Mean Eyed Cat bar in Austin, Texas… scene to some more of my unfinished business. (t-shirt coming soon)

I’m here for just a few days, saying my hellos and preparing to launch the rest of the  Texas t-shirts . Then I’ll be pointing my canoe North and picking my way through Oklahoma and the Mountain West to hopefully make it home in time for Christmas in Seattle.  If anyone out there knows of a place in OK, CO, WY, MT or ID that would make a great addition to the Destee-Nation family drop a suggestion in our box here and I’ll do my best. Otherwise I’ll rely on my peripheral vision and awkward, truck stop, bathroom conversations.

From somewhere out there,

Gabe

(actual letter sent to actual mom)

Usually when someone disappears for the better part of a year without explanation there’s pretty good chance that they’re either having a sex change operation in a developing country or messed up in the mob. While both of these situations would make for better blogging, I’m going to have to stick with the boring truth by invoking some words from my favorite Clinton, “It’s the economy, stupid.”

It shouldn’t’ come as any surprise that Desteenation is just like many of the small businesses it represents. Even in good times it can be a struggle to keep a business healthy and the man off your back so you can can keep on doing that which you love for a living. But toss in a market implosion, jittery creditors and some consumer weariness and you’re looking at hard times in the neighborhood. There’s a time to punch and a time to take a punch and even a time to get knocked down as long as you find the ropes before the bell. The events of the last year have been like a bucket of cold water in the face but I’ve awaken from all of it leaner, a bit meaner and a whole lot wiser. With that I’m humbly announcing a come-back and yanking the trailer out of mothballs. There are a whole mess of new shirts just launched and to all our fans and customers that have patiently stood by while we righted our ship, we say thank you for the support and promise to dig deeper, and go further to bring you the spoils of the road in the greatest t-shirts this country has to offer. Thanks again.

It’s good to be back,

Gabe

It’s summer in America and something stinks. No, it’s not The Jonas Sisters. (Although, I’m sure they’re somehow part of the problem). It’s the creeping death of small town America, and it’s happening right now on the outskirts of a town near you at every day low prices.

Sonic Burger and Family Dollar. KFC and Wal-Mart. Big Box Chain this and über-strip-mall that… Businesses that don’t care about the unique histories of the communities they profit from are swallowing up cheap land just off the interstate and establishing a flavorless beach-head of mindless consumerism. As far as I’m concerned this is a cultural hate-crime in which the victims exchange their silence for a shot at the guaranteed lowest price on a tub of margarine.  Here’s where some people stop reading and turn into armchair economists and citizens for The Availability of Less Expensive Baby Formula.

“People have the right to shop wherever they want, Mussolini!”
“Hey T-Shirt Man, these chains provide jobs and inexpensive goods to people trying to save money!”

True. The following is also true: Pakistani Madrases provide free meals and education to children in need, and it would be cheaper to manufacture most US goods in China.  Yes, I just invoked terrorism and communism to make the following point: the quality of our future experience is sewn in our near term choices and deserves more consideration than a knee-jerk reaction to economy and convenience. Our dollars are leaving our communities as profits and the jobs these big boxes create are usually at the expense of better paying jobs that were cannibalized in the process.

And as far as the frugality of the average American is concerned, penny pinching predates the shopping mall by more than a few millennia. The caveman managed his pebbles and Marian Cunningham clipped her coupons. Indeed the human compulsion to bargain and economize is nothing new. What is new, however, is the apathy the American populous displays in the face of driving an extra mile to patronize a local book seller or in thinking twice about giving money to businesses that, in the great corporate roll-up, view our small towns as just another column on an endless spreadsheet.

I’ve seen it for a thousand miles: small towns suffering blight because a mere ten miles away, right next to I-Whatever, squats a mega-sprawl of towering plastic signage and black asphalt, funneling local dollars into bottomless beige boxes in exchange for an average thing of average quality. When our local landmarks fall down, when these businesses die, so does a large part of our individual histories and the experience of our unique geography. Towns start to take on the same proportions, dimensions, color and purpose. Small Town America is fast becoming Same Town America and that sad, broken place you have to drive through on the way to somewhere else.

Despite this tide, I have to think that a higher understanding of our unique experiences will prevail in the end. That people will choose Hodad’s over McDonalds, Lou’s Records over Walmart and Pappy & Harriet’s over Applebee’s. Not because they saved a dollar and the parking was ample, but because they’ve found a higher value in the sharing of something unique. Because in the end when all is tolled, it will be our experiences that will matter most, not how much we saved in the process.

From somewhere out there,
Gabe