There are some things that just get worse as you get older. And I’m not just referring to air quality and fast-food ingredients, but personal things like your optimism, your waistline, and last but definitely least, your high school letter jacket. That is, if you even earned one. And if you didn’t, then your yearbook will suffice. And if you don’t even have one of those, then I suppose your diploma. And if you don’t have one of those, you can always find a job in the Cannabis business.

Speaking of diplomas, I heard they issue those to kindergarten “graduates” now. And trophies for everyone who enters a contest. Boy, are the office shelves going to be crowded in 20 years.

Anyway, if you have a letterman jacket, or know someone who does, we both know that they never wore it once after shifting that tassel from right to left. And if you attended college, you wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing it anywhere near the campus.

But we are human beings and awards hold significance, so you saved it. And having a letter jacket at the bottom of your plastic garage/attic/storage unit bin is a sneaky reminder that there was a time when you were fun and involved. Yes, that leather sleaved bomber is goofy now, but so is half the other shit you did like growing a molestache, playing quarters to get drunk, and toilet papering your buddy’s house.

Actually, scratch the toilet paper thing – that’ll always be cool AF.

Anyway, maybe it’s time to send the ol’ boy to the Goodwill so some hipster can cut off the sleeves and wear it to a gig with his band of mandolins. Because your kids will never think it’s cool, which means it is only taking up vital space – something which you don’t have enough of.

And hey, look at the bright side. Although you can never be young again, at least you can still work on the back fat. And the optimism.

May I recommend Cannabis?