On Not Wearing Pants.

An old buddy of mine asked: "Who Needs Pants, Anyway?" Well. To my friend David: All people need pants. This is an official ruling from the Boulder County Sheriff's Office....

One spring, I joined my family in the annual Southern Utah Camping Trip. A tradition for years, it was unthinkable to consider missing such an event, even though it was an 8-hour drive from Denver. We had a fantastic time, the weather was beautiful and I fell in infatuation with a boy (who later turned out to be a total waste of human tissue. Anyway. Moving on.) Alas, in my state of infatuation, I sustained a wretched sunburn on my legs. I mean, seriously terrible. When the day came that we had to go home, I bid goodbye to my Precious (jackass) and climbed in the car for the long ride home. It was a long and miserable ride, indeed. I was hot and I was cold, stinging and itching.

When we arrived home in Littleton, I still had to face the prospect of another hour in the car as I drove to my own home in Boulder. A fresh stack of clean laundry and some food pilfered from my mom's pantry, I set off. I didn't even make it to Yale before my legs demanded fresh air and freedom from the denim that encased them. Seriously. Demanded. In my very own crafty way, I quickly stripped and sang the Hallelujah Chorus for my abused and beleaguered leg-skin. I basked in the freedom until I saw them....the flashing lights in my rear-view mirror. Apparently, my jubilation had translated to my lead-foot and I had been speeding. Frankly, this was no big thing. In those days, getting pulled over was a common occurance. In fact, I felt that something was missing if I went a single month without a gentle reprimand, a gruff rebuff, or even the occasional monetary scolding.

This, however, was a problem. I had no pants on. I was quite sure that this was going to be an issue. In my flustered state, I grabbed a fluffy-soft towel from the seat beside me and placed it on my lap. In such a state, it's no wonder that the officer noticed my nervousness and asked me to step out of the vehicle. My response, "Um, no." probably wasn't what he was expecting. Finally, I just had to tell him the whole situation, letting him know that I think that standing in my skivvies on the side of the freeway probably constitutes the breaking of a whole different law.

However, it worked out great because he laughed at me and let me go with a stern warning that covered speeding and public nudity.