Tikkabik

I've told this story many times, but in case you've missed it:

I have this shirt I bought on sale at K-Mart a number of years ago. It's got these two fat, intertwined fish that look somewhat like a yin and yang symbol and Chinese writing on it. It's comfortable and good in hot weather so I wear it.

One year at Macworld Expo I wore it when I was standing in line waiting for the Steve Jobs keynote to start. I was milling about with a bunch of other journalists in the press line and this guy says, "Hey, nice shirt. What's it say?"

"I have no idea," said I.

"Those two fish look like dicks," said my friend David. "Probably says, 'white man wears the penis-fish shirt.'"

We had a good laugh about it, and not an occasion went by where I didn't reach into my closet for that shirt and say, "I guess I'll wear the penis fish shirt."

A year or two ago I was in the local chinese restaurant to pick up a take out order. The guy behind the counter looks at me and says, "Hey, nice shirt. You know what that say?"

A light went off above my head. In all the times I'd worn the shirt, I'd never actually thought to ask someone who might know Chinese what it says. I'd always just assumed it was nonsense, like the Japlish/Engrish clothes you sometimes see Japanese kids wearing.

"It say 'sick sick roo,'" he explained, in heavily accented English.

"Sick sick roo?" I parroted back.

"Yeah, sick sick roo," he repeated. "You know, Chinese is a very abstract language, like French. Sometime things in Chinese shouldn't be taken literally."

I wasn't following what he meant by "like French," but the rest of what he said made sense. But "sick sick roo?"

"Yeah, 'roo.' Like, 'road,'" he explain. "Sick sick roo."

Then it dawned on me. "Sick sick" was "Six six."

"Six Six Route."

Route 66. A K-Mart house brand. Go figure.