Vacation Klog: The I Heart Kevin Shirt Story

Surprisingly, I am a sentimental guy. Whenever I go away with my wife, I always try to get her some little memento of our trip. And that usually involves cheap little tchotchke with my name emblazoned on them. Over the years, she has garnered a quite nice little collection of various necklaces with yours truly’s name on them. I know she has a surfboard and I think a flip flop necklace with my name on them. In fact, I remember the first year I started this tradition. I came bounding out of the boardwalk store with a personalized surfboard necklace, much like a cat presenting its’ owner a bloody, dead bird. Cheap little bright orange thing (the necklace, not the bird). She smiled and said it was “nice”. I said, “Great! It’s yours. Put it on now.”

You’ve never seen a facial expression change so fast. Now this little sign of my enduring love for my woman looked like a heinous piece of cheap jewelry. I asked her what the problem was; I would proudly wear something with her name on it. She slowly put it on like it said “I kill puppies and eat their brains”. Really, I don’t see what the ado is all about. It’s not like she ever bought me anything on these trips. So every year, it’s a bit of a challenge to find something ugl…er meaningful for her to wear with my name on it.

This year it was easy. It was on my first therapeutic trip to the boards that I saw it, like a bright neon light in an otherwise dark sky. It was indeed bright. It was loud. It was ugly. It was just like me.

Yea, that’s right. One of the big fad t-shirts at the shore this year is this.

How. Fucking. Cool. A rare smile creased my usually unsmiling face. I ran back home with all the enthusiasm of a 5 year old child on Xmas Eve. “Youwon’tbelievewhatIsawuponheboards!It’sawesomeandIcan’twaittogetit.Ican’twait,Ican’twait!Andyouaregoingtolooksohotinit.I’mgoingtobuyoneforeveryoneinthehouse!”

They looked at me like I had two heads, and neither one was thinking straight. “Yea, right.” “No, I’m not making it up. They are actually selling neon I Heart Kevin t-shirts!” Even John couldn’t get my back here, “Um, how come they don’t sell I Heart John t-shirts?” John’s always gotta piss in my Cheerios. It’s because no one Hearts John, they heart me, damn it. They didn’t believe me. T says if I can find it, she will wear it. Game fucking on, beyotch. I was like the town loon, warning of impending disaster. Well, the disaster usually comes, and for some reason, the loon always seems to buy it, too. But I knew what I saw; I saw it in at least two different places. I knew I was right, and they would soon see.

The next morning, I went to the boards armed with my cell phone. I slyly took a picture of it. It’s rather difficult to sneak in taking a picture of an I Heart Kevin t at the boards, and still look manly. I immediately sent the pic to my wife, smug in the knowledge, she was truly busted, and she was going to be wearing this thing at some point for all the world to see.

A day later, we were at one of the 432 Sunsation locations that seem to dot the blocks like Starbucks used to do. And I see the IHK shirt, this time in a flattering fit model. I find one in her size, but she all hems and haws that the heart looks a little off and she wouldn’t want to wear one like that. So I find another shirt in perfect condition and in her size. Wow, what a heartfelt and loving memento of our wonderful vacation. We get home, and she tries it on.

Now, if you’re like me, you’re probably thinking she is only too proud to be seen wearing such a lovely item proclaiming the love for her husband. Why foolishly spend thousands of dollars on tiny little rings that no one can see from 10 feet away? No, love demands a bright green neon I Heart Kevin shirt so everyone can see you coming. Again, if they made such a thing that said I Heart T, I would proudly wear it. She comes down the steps with a look of…embarrassment? Huh?

Look at that pose. Shoulders slumped. Will clearly broken. A faint attempt at a smile.

And look at me. It looks like I won the Stanley fucking Cup. I am thrilled my pookie will do this for me. And she can’t even look at the camera or fake a smile. I look like the King of Siam, and my humble servant looks so sad. God, I can such a prick sometimes.

She claims the shirt is ‘too tight’, even though she okayed the size. I say it made her boobs look wicked. She is clearly not enthused. Tonight is a night we’re all going out, and I have seen this scenario a hundred times before. She is all pissy, and will do everything to drag everyone down into her pit of despair. Me being the bigger man and all, tell her she can take it off. Happiness returns to her face like air to a drowning woman. Yes, I have lost this battle, but the war is still on, and I will not lose.

April loves to instigate, probably because T likes to instigate a fight between J&A. April finds a place that sells the IHK t, in white, and it’s buy one get one. Damn, I always knew I was a cheap lover. Another day goes by as me and T hit a few of the beach type stores. None have the desired black IHK shirt. (Yes, for the record, I know most of these joints can probably just iron it on a black shirt, but that sounds like far too much work, and I don’t have the time to wait.) We walk into one place, and April subtly points out a whole row of IHK t’s! Suh-weeet. There’s the large, and hey, an XL too! You can never get too many of these. T sees me, she knows doom is impending. She walks around the store in a haze, like a convict awaiting the chair. I proudly plunk down $20 for my second and third IHK shirts.

T nervously says, “O, hey, you bought two.” She’s thinking she’s totally busted, which of course she is. “Yea, one for you, one for me!”

Yes. Yes I am that shallow, vain, foolish, proud, dorkly, stupid to wear my own IHK shirt. Really, dear reader, if you were in my position, you would do the same thing, no? If you saw a big, bright shirt that said I Heart , you would snap that summa bitch right up and wear it proudly. Aside, I’m leaving town in like two days, and could care less what anyone thinks of me. I get outside of the store, take off my non IHK shirt, and replace it with this fine, fashionable shirt. I felt like Superman putting on his ‘S’ shirt. (Unfortunately, I was capeless.)

T deserves credit, because she puts hers on as well. Wow, we’re such a cute couple, don’t cha just wanna hug us?


Merrily we go, down the boardwalk. Of course, it’s one thing for a girl to be wearing such a shirt, but it’s another thing when it’s a guy. I totally expect to get shit for it, and it doesn’t bother me. It isn’t long before I get some feedback. As we wander in and out of stores, I do get positive comments. First, two young girls giggle. I realize my fly is down, so I XYZPDQ. Then they tell me they “love Kevin, too.” Ergo, 2 girls have already said they love me. Sure, if you added up their ages, I probably still had a good ten years on them, but affection is affection. A few stores later, another girl sheepishly tells me she loves me, too. But she was chubby, and Kev don’t play that, homie.

As we continue down the crowded boardwalk, I keep my eyes peeled. I do get the occasional double take; “Is that dude wearing that shirt?” T points out that if I wasn’t so ‘big’, I would be getting a lot more shit. But I guess being 6 foot 215 pounds of twisted steel and raw sex appeal can get me away with a few questionable fashion choices. I was walking by a bench with a kid about 16-17 and a few girls about that age. This kid was your typical kid, wearing Hurley shirt, definitely trying to be a bit of a hardass, too cool for the scene. As I walked by him, even he snorted and said, “That’s a great shirt” in a manner like ‘yea, ya got me dude, I ain’t ever seen a guy wear that’.

We were stopped by a store, when I distinctly heard a teen aged girl say something to the effect of “I think it’s cool he’s comfortable like that.” Yer GD right. I wore the shirt the whole rest of the night-wouldn’t you? I give T credit. We walked a bit, and I told her she could take it off, but she troopered on and kept it on for a few blocks more. So we went to OCMD, and all I got was three I K t-shirts. But they’re really the best things I’ve bought in a long, long time. And I promise you, you will be seeing me wearing that shirt.