The other night, Mr. Z was telling me about the report he was writing for school about Dwight D. Eisenhower. He was a little bummed because he would have preferred to write about Harry S. Truman, his favorite president. It's weird, ever since the boy was like, one, he's had this bizarre fixation with Harry Truman. He even named this little wooden acrobatic toy Harry S. Truman when he was about two. I found out later that it all stemmed from this U.S. Presidents placemat my parents had that he used to use. When I looked at the pictures on the placemat, I realized that Truman's coloring was really over-saturated for some reason and his whole head had this glowing, orange quality to it. He looked like some sort of Oompah-Loompah General. Apparently, that's very appealing to a one-year-old.
But I digress.
So, Mr. Z is feeding me various tidbits about Eisenhower when he says:
MR. Z: Hey dad, have you ever heard the phrase, "I like Ike?"
ME: Sure, that was Eisenhower's slogan, right?
MR. Z: How did you know?!
I went on to explain that, while I may seem like an utter chucklehead, I actually did learn a couple things while in school. He was dubious, but he continued to riff on the "I like Ike" phrase until he eventually came up with:
MR. Z: How 'bout "I like Ike's bike?"
ME: Hey, that would make a great t-shirt!
See, I like to make 'wacky' t-shirt transfers for the kidlets because... well, because I guess I'm too old to wear them myself and I really hate my kids walking around with goddamn 'Old Navy' plastered all over their chests. I've made them Ramones shirts, They Might be Giants shirts, Bjork shirts -- basically shirts that scream, "I have no idea who is on my shirt but isn't my dad fucking cool and ironic for making this for me?!"
So I've been working on the 'Ike' shirt and I think I'm getting close. Here's what I have so far... let me know your thoughts (you can click on it to make it magically grow):
He looks so proud of his Stingray, doesn't he? Although it looks like that banana seat is gonna jam his Elaine Nardo's straight up to his epaulettes. And I'm pretty sure that if he works up a sweat peddling, them woolen slacks of his sure ain't going to breathe very well. It doesn't matter, though. He's Dwight D. Eisenhower, and the "D" stands for "Dang, Mamie! Check out this sweet ride!"