I\u2019m ashamed to admit this publicly, but I\u2019m going to start wearing my shirts that have stains on them instead of throwing them out. There are just too many. With this humbling and embarrassing admission, I want to set the record straight. That way, if you see me in public, you won't have to surreptitiously stare at the stain and wonder, \u201cHow did this guy\u2019s wife ever let him out of the house with that stain on his shirt?\u201d Or \u201cMaybe I should recommend a good dry cleaner for this dimwit.\u201d Or perhaps, \u201cGee, his family must have fallen on hard times if he has to wear a shirt with a gravy stain on it.\u201d (Point of translation \u2014\u00a0Italians call it \u201cgravy\u201d while the rest of the world calls it \u201cmarinara sauce.\u201d) Maybe I\u2019m getting long in the tooth like my grandfather, who could never keep the food off his shirt, let alone his moustache. In fact, he never seemed to notice it was there until we pointed it out, and even then he didn\u2019t care. My personal collection of assorted stains includes not only tomato sauce, but also olive oil, ink, coffee and assorted mystery stains I can only assume the dry cleaner caused. It\u2019s only natural to blame someone else. The reason I started wearing bow ties many years ago wasn\u2019t that I wanted to look cool or clever or like some intellectual wannabe or Pee-Wee Herman, but rather because I got tired of ruining all those neckties with food stains, which were generally caused by chili that plopped onto my tie while I was trying to negotiate a foot-long hot dog into my mouth with only ten minutes to eat lunch because of deadline.I suppose it\u2019s in my genes. I still remember my grandmother calling me a \u201csciattone,\u201d when I was barely eight years old. (Point of translation, that\u2019s Italian for \u201cslob.\u201d) Some things never change. In recent months, the problem has gotten worse, and I\u2019m beginning to worry that it may be a progressive condition. To compound the problem, I write with fountain pens and every other day, I fill them with permanent black ink with brand names like \u201cEdelstein Onyx\u201d and \u201cMystery Black.\u201d This ink is truly permanent, and once it touches something, it\u2019s guaranteed to stay there until Armageddon or the end of the material world as we know it, or at least until the Dow crashes. I suppose I could start using washable blue ink, but somehow that\u2019s just not the same because it doesn\u2019t have that kind of classy look I associate with Downton Abbey.Last week, when I was filling my pen, I got two very tiny dots of ink \u2014\u00a0as large as deer ticks \u2014\u00a0on my white shirt. At first I thought they were specks of dirt, until I tried to remove them. Unfortunately, once I applied water, the stains became as large as polka dots. Even though I take every precaution imaginable when I fill the pens, the ink always seems to go somewhere besides inside the pen. I\u2019ve also stained our kitchen counter and dining room table, not to mention several expensive table cloths.I guess I should start filling them in the back yard, or maybe I could pay the neighbors\u2019 kids a few bucks to do it for me since they\u2019re sciattones too. On average, I ruin a shirt with ink stains about every two months and with Zesty Italian Dressing about every three weeks. The olive oil and salad dressing stains are more difficult to avoid since I eat salad every day for lunch. So for now, as a preventive measure, I\u2019ve started to wear a paper towel bib, which has proved effective. Unfortunately, I\u2019ll never make the cover of GQ ... or the back cover. This problem is straining my marriage because my wife is tired of replacing shirts that are virtually brand new. I told her we can write them off as a business expense, and that seemed to satisfy her, but I\u2019m sure my accountant will see it differently.Nevertheless, I\u2019m committed to getting this problem under control. From now on, I\u2019ll carry a roll of Bounty paper towels in my attach\u00e9, and instead of a fountain pen in my shirt pocket, you\u2019ll see a Tide stick, which, I\u2019ve discovered from firsthand experience, is one of the greatest inventions of the latter half of the 20th Century, rivaling the iPhone. Contact Joe Pisani at firstname.lastname@example.org.