Your PANTS pants

by michaelhaydon

    People will often tell you, whether or not you care to listen, about how taking mushrooms “changed their life.” Especially here, at The University of Vermont of all places. I plan to do the same. 

    Picture this. You’re tripping dick off to the side of the Burlington bike path, far enough away that you feel like you’re in another world entirely, but still close enough that middle aged joggers and dog walkers can probably hear you raving fanatically. You’ve just struck upon the realization of a lifetime, and you will look back on this moment forever as the one that moved mountains (of pants on your bed), parted oceans (of pants on your floor), and split the skies (of pants hanging from your ceiling fan after you got tired of moving them from your bed to that chair every goddamn night and needed to do something else with them). The epiphany in question? PANTS pants.

    PANTS pants are that pair of Levi’s your grandpa bought you three years ago that you can make fit into every outfit. They’re those thrifted chinos with the stain you forgot you had for two years until you realized you wanted to make every outfit fit them. PANTS pants can be anything, they’re that pair you won’t take off or throw out no matter how many times your mom tells you she doesn’t want you wearing pants that have a hole in the crotch out in public. When our pants are our PANTS pants we cherish them. We make sure they’re clean (enough) to wear out on Friday nights, we suffer through our bad pants on Tuesday so that our MWF crushes see the way they hug our asses just right. Maybe we even say fuck it and wear them both days. PANTS pants bring excitement to the monotony of everyday life, they were there with us when we told our first significant other that we loved them and they were there three months later when you had to break up with them because they quoted vines wayyyy too much. They’re there all the time. Until one day, they’re not. 

    See, PANTS pants can’t be PANTS pants forever. Maybe they fell to the back of your closet and you forgot about them. Maybe they got replaced by a pair your uncle got you for Christmas (he somehow knew your size exactly?) Maybe your mom threw them out without telling you because goddamnit for the last time she doesn’t want you wearing pants that have a hole in the crotch out in public. This is sad, don’t get me wrong. I really liked those pants that had a hole in the crotch. But the beauty of PANTS pants is that as PANTS pants fade away they make room for different PANTS pants. Maybe one day you’ll find that old pair, once PANTS pants and now just stupid, boring pants, up in the box in the attic, and the bleach stains you once despised them for will inspire you to try them out with that sweater you hadn’t been able to figure out. Maybe you’ll end up giving them to your nephew/niece for christmas, completing another beautiful cycle of the Uncle ritual. PANTS pants come, and PANTS pants go, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s that no matter where I am in life, I will have my pants, and I will have my PANTS pants.

Categories: michael haydon, october 6, 2020, reflections

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