The Quilt of Many Conquests
Meg began a project three or four years ago, one that seemed to linger on and on without an end in sight. Nobody knows for sure of its origins, but it definitely hatched before Ian was seeded. Not that I have any room to brag, as I have clearly failed to complete many a task (e.g., running the Boston Marathon despite qualifying three times, earning that scholarship to Stanford to play baseball (I still have four years of eligibility), and writing an episode for The Simpsons) that I had set out to do oh so long ago. But this story isn't about me. As part of a father's day gift, Meg had offered to make a quilt out of my old race t-shirts. I was impressed with her bravery at such an undertaking, for I would race in said shirts, which soaked up my sweat and foul stench and the blood of the rivals I crushed, and which I would then immediately strip off and store in an air-tight plastic bag, thus preserving the physical essence of my over-achieving effort. I admit that that last se...