Wilson

I guess it's time to tell you a little more about myself. I'm basically your typical Chinese guy--I love playin' hoops (but never made my high school team), I drive a shiny sports car, and I only date Chinese girls. I mean, sure I was born into an Indian body, but I don't really want to get into that right now...let me just tell you more about my culture:

Naming Your Chinese Son for Success in America.

Rule 1. Your son's first name must be a typical American/English last name (Jones).

Rule 2. Your son will only be successful if his name somehow connotes prestige. Names such as Wilfred, Phillip, and Fitzgerald are simply prestigious without explanation and for less inspired Chinese parents, I offer the following techniques:

• Use the last name of a former US President (Jefferson, Truman, Wilson)
• Use names of prestigious universities (Princeton, Stanford, Yale)
• Use names of famous scientists (Albert, Edison, Darwin)
• Use names of the landed English gentry (Nigel, Byron)
• Warning: do not name your son Harvard or Cambridge. That's just overkill. Your son will not be successful, and worse, he may even become a teacher. Similarly, Clinton is overkill. Instead, go with Clifton, but definitely not Clifford, since it actually is an American first name (see Rule 1). Also, please don't name your son Einstein.

Rule 3. Finally, as these rules are subtle and their practitioners often new to the country, it is okay if the names are almost correct, as long as the parents appear to have tried their best. For example, Bertrand, a perfectly acceptable Chinese boy name, might become Burtmund, which is passes under this rule. Other examples are Wilson becoming Wilton and Ellington becoming Edington.

For completeness, I will include some examples: Humphrey, Felix, Winston, Stanford, Preston, Hilton, Fitzgerald, Eldon, Harrison, Phillip, Princeton, Quinlan, Edwin, Davis, Milton, Davidson, Byron, Bertrand, Bowman, Clifton, Ellington, Stanton, Wilton, Hubert, Burtmund, Darwin, Franklin, Trenton, Nelson, Myron, Roland, Jefferson, Wilfred, Alfred, Samson, Nigel, Edison, Edmund, Edington, and of course, my name...Wilson.

Welcome to "What the Shirt, the Blog?"

Let me start off by saying that I'd like to thank all of you for making this blog possible. I'd like to thank all of you for making this blog possible.

Now you might be asking, "What is 'What the Shirt, the Blog?'" But after you understand, you will ask, "What the shirt is 'What the Shirt, the Blog?'"

But seriously, this is just the blog about the shirt, which is why it's called "What the Shirt, the Blog." The real shirt, the one to which this blog is dedicated, was a tight one worn by my girlfriend. She threw off her sweater, and then I saw it. It was white and form-fitting. I was in my 9 o'clock stupor, after spending 10 hours that day doing 25 minutes of productive work, so I said, "What the shirt is that?" The phrase started to run in an auto-reverse loop out of my mouth for the full 3 minutes of the ensuing love-making session.

...

It's been a year since that night. While the phrase has been abbreviated (I dropped the "is that"), it has not been forgotten, though its meaning continually evolves:

"Where the shirt is my shirt?" (looking for my shirt while leaving for to Prime Time)

"What the shirt?" (the blog)

"I feel so shirtless." (telling my girlfriend how miserable I feel after not getting my eight)

"Shiiiiirt!" (oh yea, party time, hangin' out with the boys)

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