--What's the average lifespan of a pair of underwear?I didn't mark my calendar when I made the purchases, or
anything, but I believe most of my stuff is about a year old.And it's in a state of full collapse.
I went through a period of undergarment confusion, you see, switching
from style to style and having a difficult time settling on something
I liked.At one point my top
drawer looked like a Goodwill collection box, filled with all manner
of ball sock.
I tried boxers, and hated them.There
was an unfortunate glacier effect associated with the things, which
would cause me to do deep knee-bends and continuously pluck and prod
my crotch.And this is why, I
suspect, I was never promoted to director at my job...
But I couldn't sport tighty-whities; I was 43, not 7.I'd look like that fat New Year's baby, in a diaper.I thought I could cheat and go with the colored versions of the
whities, but there was something disturbingly pre-school about the
whole affair.The only thing
missing was a smiling steam engine across my ass.
I
tried boxer briefs, but they were like bicycle shorts.The legs were long and tight, and I felt like I should be out
roller-blading with my "partner" through Santa Monica.I caught a glimpse of myself wearing a pair in a full-length
mirror one day, and after regaining consciousness threw every one of
them away.
So
what was I to do?I was having
a full-blown underwear crisis.
Then I found the perfect solution.They're
boxer briefs, but with something called a comfort waistband.I think it's a regular waistband, but covered in fabric.
But that's not the part that sold me…For some reason they're made differently; the legs aren't as
tight, or as long, as regular boxer briefs.They're almost like the shorts we used to wear in gym class,
but snug enough to come between man
and gravity.
So I took a Wal-Mart bag upstairs and emptied my entire underwear
drawer.I tossed the hideous
thing in the garbage, and started over.And it's been a pleasure.Until
recently...
Almost every pair is now failing me.They're
getting all droopy and misshapen, and the waistbands don't have any
life left in them.A few days
ago I was walking across the production floor at work, and could feel
my britches working their way down.By
the time I reached my destination, I was at half-mast.
And mister, when you start needing a pair of underwear- suspenders,
something's gotta be done…
My fear?They no longer make
the kind I like.At first I was
grumbling about the prospect of spending actual money on something
like that (every $10 = 1 CD in my mind), but what if I can't even find
them??I'm concerned they're
some discontinued variation of a popular line, or possibly even a
test-marketing type of deal.
This could be a real setback, my friends.
--And since we’re on the
subject, how many pairs of underwear should a person own?What’s the proper number?Fifteen?Forty?I simply don’t
know.Just how much is this
revitalization project going to cost me??
--I was late for work two days
in a row this week.They're
doing construction on I-81, and it seemingly doesn't matter what time
I leave – I'm going to arrive seven minutes late.
My boss, a real stickler for punctuality, was not very happy on the
first day, and I promised to leave even
earlier on Wednesday.I have a 35 to 40 minute commute, and left our house 75 minutes
before I was supposed to be there.
And I was seven minutes late.
It was still early in the trip, when everything came to a literal
standstill.I figured
construction was the culprit, but could see flashing lights up ahead.It looked like a police car was parked sideways across the
interstate, blocking all traffic.The
crap??
Then I watched a humongous truck enter the highway, with a massive
piece of what appeared to be military equipment on the back.It was so huge, one lane could not contain it.So the dude drove it straight down the middle.
At least four police cars were accompanying this spectacle, and were
positioned so nobody could attempt to pass.And they were creeping along at roughly thirty miles per hour.
Grrrrrr…I called work and
told my boss I was probably going to be late again, because I was
stuck behind a goddamn space shuttle, or is it a battleship, traveling
southbound on I-81.
"Just get here when you can," I was told.And the tone didn't exactly give me a warm and fuzzy feeling...
I-81
is like some kind of Bermuda Triangle that sucks you in, and no matter
the circumstances, returns you to your world at exactly 4:07 pm.Perhaps I should call George Noory about it?
And maybe a good employment agency, as well.
Yeah, I think I might have to ask if I can leave our pop-up camper in
the parking lot, and live there during the work week.(I can just see me out there cooking bacon in the mornings,
waving at the day-shifters…)
I can’t have another Summer of Unemployment; they’re not nearly as
much fun as they sound.
-- I believe I'm going to switch my Netflix plan from three at a time,
to one at a time.I just can't
do it anymore; I'm unable to keep the discs moving, like the old days.
It’s a sad state of affairs.There’s
been a copy of No
Country for Old Men sitting on
our coffee table for weeks, and I don't even know what the other two
discs are.It's been so long I
forget.
The way I work makes it impossible to engage in responsible Netflixing.So I’m going to sit down with the website this weekend,
explain that’s it’s not her but me, and let her know I’d really
like to remain friends.
Wish me luck.I hope there’s
not some big emotional scene…
--I had to pick up the older
Secret at school today, because of a dentist appointment or somesuch.While driving I took a shortcut through a neighborhood, and saw
that someone had put a Christmas
tree out with their garbage.
On April 10!
The thing was just sticks in the shape of a triangle at this point,
and there were remnants of those shiny silver icicle things people
sometimes drape across the limbs. I almost hit a parked car…
This thing had been sitting in the corner of someone’s living room
since late November?With all
the needles and color long gone -- yet still decorated?Man, that’s laziness at the black belt level.
When we lived in Californiathere was a house in
Burbankthat was constantly decorated
for every major holiday.They
had Santas on the roof, Easter eggs hanging from the trees, a zombie
rising out of a fake grave near the front door, static-cling hearts
(and turkeys and shamrocks) all over the picture window, etc.And I was always unclear if it was a case of rampant half-assery,
art, or some sort of political statement.
Do any of you know the house I’m speaking of?It was on Hollywood Way, across from the post office.
--I’m having a little
trouble with this update.I
hope it’s not obvious, but I think I’m out of practice writing the
“normal” stuff.So I’ll
switch back to Englandfor the Question of the Day…
Some of you probably read or skimmed my long-winded travelogue over
the past few days, and know the things we did on our trip, and the
places we visited.So how much
do you think it cost?How much
would you guess we spent on our week in (and around) London?
I’m looking for a grand total, including airfare, hotel, airport
transfers, food, tours, admissions to various attractions --
everything.Here’s a little
tip:we (Toney) worked hard, in
advance, to keep the costs at a minimum.And I think we (Toney) did amazingly well.
So give me your guess, rounded off to the nearest hundred dollars, and
tomorrow I’ll tell you the damage.
