It started on a Wednesday morning in Aruba.  Someone was having coffee, moving slowly, and a voice across the table said, in a tone that suggested it was already settled, "yeah, I bet we don't get Tuesday Chris again."

The implication being that Tuesday Chris had a shelf life.  That the version of you who doesn't wait for a reason, doesn't ask permission, and doesn't check whether it's appropriate - that version had an expiration date.

That's also how the name got made.

Tuesday Chris is the version that shows up when the artificial rules fall away.  No occasion required.  No waiting for the weekend.  

Aruba has a way of making that obvious.  The bars are walkable.  The sun doesn't care what day it is.  At some point you're sitting at a pier restaurant, you can see your family in the water in the distance, and someone says: swim it.

Shirt came off.  Checked for boat traffic.  Dove in.

No deliberation.  One practical check and then a decision that was already made.

It's been seventeen years since that Wednesday morning.  The tradition has grown.  The crew has expanded.  A bar in Aruba has chanted the name.

This year there's a website.

Not because Tuesday Chris needs to announce itself.  Because at some point a thing that real deserves a place to exist.

The clothing came later.  The decision came first.