These shorts have been with me since I was in high school, and I'm pretty sure that I started the trend of wearing plaid shorts at Watertown High School because up until that time other boys generally wore jean shorts - it was 1996. I have to admit that sometime around 2005-2010 there was a period of many years where they were forgotten and sat in the bottom of a box or at the bottom of a shelf, but they have had glory days these last few years as I rediscovered the style and excitement of them. One thing that makes these shorts stand out is that they are pleated front and also have an elastic waist.
The last ride of the Union Bay pleated, elastic-waisted, plaid shorts deserves to be told. The last time I wore them was yesterday and they served me well, but I also realized that it was the end of the line for them. Yesterday, September 2, 2012, I woke up early and went to the gym, which was nice and quiet and just the way I like it. Then I went back to my apartment and had breakfast and took a long, hot shower. I put on the plaid shorts and a Nantucket tee shirt and I was ready and feeling good. I was heading to Watertown, the town where I grew up, to meet my hometown buddies for a fantasy football draft. In the car ride down I noticed on the shorts that the left leg was fraying and also a hole below the left pocket. I didn't really care if anybody at the draft would notice - it just didn't matter, at all.
The draft started with some major drama. I was the first to show up at my buddy's house because I wanted to catch up with him before the madness of the draft began. One of the first things I did was check the wi-fi connection to make sure it agreed with my laptop. I logged on and launched the draft room with no problems. Forty minutes later right as the draft began my laptop lost connection and the window went blank. Big, huge, major problem! So I scrambled around the house to get a stronger signal and quit applications hoping it would reset itself. Five minutes later sanity was restored and I was back in the draft room and had to make a rushed, panicked first pick. I picked Roddy White, and if you are not familiar with fantasy football I would compare the level of excitement with picking him to going out for ice cream and spending ten minutes going back and forth between Moose Tracks with extra fudge, Chocolate Caramel Swirl with Peanut Butter Cups, Almond Joy Coconut with Cookie Dough, and then after all the pressure and anticipation, choosing vanilla.
I still wasn't settled by the time my second pick came back around and I accidentally chose Maurice Jones-Drew, who had been holding out for a new contract all summer and had just showed up yesterday, probably fat and out of shape. I had a rough start, but the rest of the draft ran smoothly and my team should be competitive, and all this happened during the last hurrah of the plaid shorts, so it was a great day of seeing old friends and enjoying the last big weekend of summer.
When I got home I changed into my lounging uniform, which is maximized for comfort, mesh shorts and loose fitting tee shirts. As a held the plaid shorts in my hand I noticed the threads were bare and thin, and I could see my hand poking through a three-inch hole on the backside that was right above another smaller tear. Sixteen years is very old in clothing years, it is probably equal to at least 175 human years. I knew that was the end, but it was a glorious end, and if my fantasy team has success, part of that success will be due to the plaid shorts, who still had one good day left.
Oh Mr. Murphy, you are funny by saying; if I continue to wear them people will most likely start thinking that I am homeless or destitute. I also think you are right. I completely agree with you, I hate good byes too, I feel terrible when I have to say good bye even to my papers that I write on them.
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