Mike Cox When you’re a teenager, peer pressure is enormous. The need to fit in continues throughout life, but during the teen years there is a sense of desperation about anything which might affect social standings at school.

When I was 14, my parents were struggling to clothe, feed, and educate four kids. Our school outfits were ordered from the Sears catalogue each season, not bought at the preferred retail store in town. I cut labels from my shirts so no one could verify where they came from.

During Christmas break, I found a pair of black slacks. I have no idea how I acquired them; probably a Christmas gift I tossed aside while looking for better presents.

I liked the way they looked, tried them on and liked the way I looked in them. For three days during the holiday break, I had them on and planned to wear them on the first day back to school along with a gray sweater I re–discovered.

The night before school began, I washed my new pants and the sweater. I had been doing my own laundry for a couple of years, along with cleaning my room, doing the yard work, and cooking a little bit. Everything I knew how to do was picked up by watching my parents, asking questions, or observing others.

I put my new, cool pants in the washing machine along with the sweater. After I put in some detergent, I decided I wanted everything extra clean so I added some Clorox. When I removed the ruined slacks from the washing machine, my heart sank. I had to wear Roebuck jeans to school the next day.

Most of our life lessons come this way. We screw something up so bad, it stays with us forever. We tell our kids but unless we re–enforce how important it is, they won’t realize the significance until they are forced to live with a blunder of epic proportions.

Recently, I saw a news article about how to take care of your clothes. There were several laundry tips: separate colors, turn things inside out to prevent fading, and watch the water temperature.

Providing life lessons has become a trend. Newspapers and television have replaced parents as our voice of experience. We are told how to take care of plants and pets, when to know if a mechanic is cheating us, and what to eat to stay healthy. The media provides us with information on how to survive heat, cold, hurricanes, tornadoes, and tragedy.

We absorb the information, remember some and forget the rest, until a new feature brings it up again. If we have a question, we check it out on the internet. Right now, there are 1,760,000 articles on Google about washing clothes.

I know how to do my laundry. I learned the hard way. Self–proclaimed experts usually leave something important out. The newspaper article I read didn’t mention bleach on colored clothes. I guess the author never wanted black slacks really clean.