newartshirt - Live from Dodger Stadium 1000 vin scully avenue Lafc Dodgers shirt
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My parents had chosen Eugene after seeing photos of tall conifers and a dramatic nearby coast, along with a want ad for a one-year job there teaching philosophy, my father’s discipline at the Live from Dodger Stadium 1000 vin scully avenue Lafc Dodgers shirt but in fact I love this time. I was born in Eugene a year later, and by that point, we lived in a house. The bus was parked in our driveway and roared to life for periodic odysseys or when our car was not running, which was often, in which case my mother was forced to grocery-shop in a gigantic Prankster-mobile with a loose gear shifter. To have this eccentric old vehicle in our driveway gave us a certain infamy among the more conservative working-class loggers in Eugene, to whom we probably did not seem respectable, but to me the bus was completely normal. I didn’t know anything else.
The cloth that adorned the Live from Dodger Stadium 1000 vin scully avenue Lafc Dodgers shirt but in fact I love this school-bus windows, a slippery fabric in a psychedelic harlequin geometry, and the kaleidoscope pattern of the little hand-sewn sleeping bag that was my bus bedding might even be my earliest memories. We had this fabricsent by my paternal grandfather, a screen-printer in New York Cityin different designs, paisleys and floral blooms and soft runnels of sherbet pastels, both in the bus and all over the house. Periodically, beat-up packing crates filled with folded material arrived in Oregon from New York. My grandfather, Bernard Buddy Kushner, had named his company Bernard Screen Print, and that’s how we referred to the material. I remember going to the plant, in Queens, as a kid visiting my grandparents, and hearing the thundering sound of the rollers. My grandfather showed me his gigantic collection of ties, gifted to him by his various clients, who brought cloth and a design for him to print. My grandmother, who had an austere, Shaker-like taste and preferred the earth tones that were a mark of midcentury refinement, never would have worn Bernard Screen Print. Its man-made fibers of nylon, polyester, and acetate, dyed densely in bright colors, were too flashy and loud for her. My father’s younger brother worked at the plant as a color specialist and demonstrated for us how the dyes were mixed. Later he wondered if his partial hearing loss was a result of spending long days in a deafening factory. When I recently asked my father why he had not gone into the family trade and instead escaped to the West Coast, he reminded me that he is colorblind.
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