Today was magnificent shirt day on the MARTA. There was the dapper Caribbean cat wearing the black beret and the most stunning Guayabera I’ve ever witnessed: light brown, with darker brown triangles angling out from the center buttons with black squares surrounding those and a definite “3D” effect on the whole setup. The conched-out man in the black dress pants and, get this, a deep blue Kung-Fu/Fu-Manchu shirt with no collar, gold piping and a solitary gold button right up against his throat blew me away. The pretty Indian woman with the see-through, light-blue, lacy shirt with extra long sleeves and subtle silver sparkles intertwined in the fabric was a vision. I saw an aging nu-metal or funk-rock drummer or bassist type wearing a really sweet U Penn jersey, and even the hipsters on board were boasting some pretty elegant finery: not a trucker cap in sight.