The new social networking king, the vacuum of eyes and time took the crown simply because - every f-ing person you have or ever will know is on the damn thing.
The net effect is a party line out of control. People who spilled there guts and heart on blogs on the MySpace, now do one liners on a digital ticker tape. Its all good.
Slogging though my work-stream a glance at the live feed catches my eye.
Toying with no-pants subway Sunday. Trying to work up the nerve. Dare me.
I sorta know the woman who put this out. The normal blitz of responses follow.
"Subways don't wear pants!"
"Nope! I care about you too much, ;)"
"One of my roommates did that once and had a blast! People get so freaked out"
"I'm not wearing pants now. Ok, I am."
She chimed in - "I love you guys! Who's in? Boc-boc-boc -- chicken?"
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I wonder - what the hell is no pants Subway Sunday? A browser tab opens up and in next break I run a quick search that yields a YouTube vid. A quick silent run showed snowbound, snow clad kids (my term for anyone 20 years younger than me) taking off their pants - boys and girls casually riding the subway in skivvies. Mini cameras are catching the reactions as they enter and exit the Subway.
My quick-vid trained senses grasp the nature of this - a quick search yields a mass Improv group - with missions and compilations of a kind of public theater that was notable in the consciousness revolution. But without the moral edge. It seemed - restrained in a way. The crayons colored it within the lines. - Something about it was - cleanly fuzzy.
A few seconds of distracted judgment later I decide to chime in..
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Ken - In LA with 70 something degree weather and longish shorts it may kinda go unnoticed
Ken - If you go pant less - I will go pant less
I thought nothing of this - in the back of my mind it was just…another musing, a psychic utterance that leads to delayed plans and different directions for a weekend.
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The weekend starts and a the inbox gets a message.
"I'm doing it! Don't worry if you decide not to"
This gets my masculine nature raised - rarely does it wake up. In fact the context of this is so out of context I was kinda, impaired.
It's as if someone asked you to serve pizza at a transgender lingerie show. Chances are - in this lifetime - you will never be asked.
"But if you're game, check this stuff out preliminarily and get back to me today."
I respond - with a trace of thought - hey - this was actually going to happen.
"Hmmm... called me out huh."
"I gots some baggy boxers - text me if you have crossed the Rubicon - The answer is if you go - I go "
I dismissed any chance that this is going to actually happen- it was a form of denial. I shrugged internally.
The response came later that day. Its was a discussion on the logistics of pantslessness. what station (Union) pants off at the train or at the platform leading down to it. etc....
"2 p.m. Union Station - good to go"
“10-4”
In the forefront of my mind - something would "come up". A last minute detraction, family obligations – something, and if not then - I had a blank in the place of what I would feel next.
Status Update “My braggadocio was called out - do I say yes?”
Response from an old high school friend, female - “Yes! YES!! YESSSSSS!!!!!!!”
“you would suggest that course of action”
“And u know me so well.”
“OK……………………………………………..”
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Earlier that evening - I explain the situation to La.
“Should I go?” - Raising herself up from a chair she looked a bit pouty.
“This may still not happen - besides it won’t be long, just a subway ride and a group photo. And every single camera will beam this all over. I have mixed feelings about that.”
“Fine - do whatever you want (! –she meant it) but make sure to take pictures.”
Later on the day of the event nieces would be over for a bit - baby-sitting duties would take up a little of the afternoon time for La.
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Sunday Morning – we had spent yesterday afternoon playing Rock Band (Beatles, Regular) with my brother family, beer, pizza – a nice wholesome time.
Today would be different. I woke up early, a feeling of a slow, muted dread slowly dawned on me. I looked over my undergarment. It was actually a super boxer, gray colored and so baggy that it goes down to my knees. I knew this was not the kind of action that was on the youtube vids. But no way in hell was I going tighty whitey . And my boxers would be good but daring due to the access sliver.
I get my Hawaiian shirts in the wash. At the same time I chanted to keep my nerves at bay – two hours!
Putting my wash to the dryer I noticed the clothes had not been taken out. I pull out the darks and I drop the pile on the bed. By happenstance a pair of underpants was on top, it was Haynes cotton black I got about two years ago, meant to look like a Speedo. The cut was formfitting and just above my thigh, the color was black.
It spoke to me in a way that un nerved me – I knew, knew this was it. The form would fit tight but the color would visually “smooth out” any minor protruding elements. My thighs looked nice if I do say so myself.
Black would be the color that would hide my middle aged slightly protruding gut. A black Tiki Ti shirt, black Hawaiian over shirt rounded out the overall look.
Status Update - “Today will be ....interesting”
Response - “If by "interesting" you mean KICK-ASS.”
“yougotit”
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I grab the world’s ugliest tote bag. I felt like Batman packing his utility belt.
Extra underpants, shirt, a pair of Dockers, mini first aid kit, 2 mini candy bars, napkins, a book, a newspaper, a fully charged digital camera, my old cell phone, printed instructions with the train schedule.
You Boy Scout said La.
Status Update “Lock and loaded ...”
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In my four year old Levi cargo shorts I head out, it’s a sunny 70 something Los Angeles winter day. I pullout my metro card – it’s a small proxy card that has a chip in it. It’s changeable at places that offer MTA card charging. I keep it for days I go to the Tiki Ti, or some place that is Metro accessible and offers drinks.
5 bucks – I jump on the #4 headed to Union Station, not believing any of this.
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Union Station. I get to it early – I take a small walk near the bridge – moving my mind away from what was going to happen.
Union station was the last major train station built in the US before the advent of the Freeway system. It’s a worn art deco building that connects Amtrack to Metro, the local subway/bus system.
Still thinking that she will not be here, and I get to bug out, I receive a text; “I’m Here! Shall I get you a round trip ticket”
Game on.
K - “Got one I am walking in”
I walk to the bus terminal - there she is.
There is something called a BIG SMILE. Its a smile that seems to be implanted. And she has it.
The academic phrase is transgressive. It means mindfully crossing social norms.
"Ken!"
"I have been looking at the people around, seeing who's going to do this"
I stare into the background - with a new set of eyes, in the back a few white kids are on bikes, are they?...
Practical matters grip me - we do have some time. We take a bathroom break. Afterward I ask for a pre no pants photo - so we can see what we looked like before the public viewing began.
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