Pants on the Ground | | Brainerd, Minnesota

Pants on the Ground


Walkin' downtown with your pants on the ground!
Hey! Get your pants off the ground!
Lookin like a fool!
Walkin' talkin' with your pants on the ground!


Does any of that sound familiar? It might if you remember Larry Platt.   He was the Older-Than-50 guy who had his five minutes of fame one year on American Idol by singing this song about the young studs and their decidedly poor judgment of how clothing should fit. Clearly this man has never walked thru our local Baxter Fleet Farm to see what the men his age are wearing. But I have....

I had the pleasure of stopping by Fleet Farm the other day.  The batteries on my dog's electric fencing collars were dead and that is my go-to place for replacements.  No one told me they were remodeling in there, but the nice guy at the door had a clue when I stopped in my tracks with a wide-eyed "oh please help me" expression. 

He asked, so I told him - dog collar batteries...and he pointed me towards the back of the store. Ooook.  I didn't wear my hiking boots or bring a snack, but this really shouldn't take all that long. I plastered on a brave smile praying this would be a quick stop.  Wrong.

I was all over the place, asked for directions 3 times, before finally finding the batteries hiding in the furthest never-neverland corner. And while I was traversing from hill to dale in that store, I had the Mr. Platt's refrain stuck in my head with every aisle and every display. Why? Because pants on the ground, pants on the ground...they were walking all around with their pants on the ground.  I saw pants all over that store that defied gravity ... and these weren't on anyone young. These were on men old enough to know better. 

Seriously, them to fit.  If you are no longer a 32" waist, cinching your belt tight across your buns so your jeans don't hit the floor doesn't make it a reality. One mans' pants were hanging so low I think I could see Paris AND France.  I swear they were held in place only by a thin electrostatic charge - a sort of silent agreement between his denim and his Fruit of the Looms. Oh the temptation to walk by and with a slight flick of my fingertip, for that is all it would take, to reveal the answer to the question "boxers or briefs?"

My point? I'm pretty sure that Mr. Platt wasn't singing about the "Seasoned"  men in our community...but if the song fits...