The Modern Man: Walking the Dog

Before I begin this post, I need to tell you I saw something so amazingly mind boggling that I had to share it. After a long day at school, a student was scampering down the hall at a relatively fast pace.

Okay, he was running.

As I wondered whether I should try to catch up to him, or pretend there was something in my eye that would allow me to head back into my office, I saw something relatively disturbing.

His pants were beginning to slide down his butt, or as we in teacher world are forced to say, "His gluteous maximus." (Remember, 95% of all students have seen every uncut American Pie or Saw DVD, yet parents freak out if we swear, or try to show a movie like Saving Private Ryan or Glory).

Now this pants thing isn't so surprising. The new school uniform is pants with belts fastened at what might call, the "junk" area, or as we are forced to call due to current abstinence education rules, the "you'll go to hell" stick or the shame cave. This is covered by a long tee-shirt if you're a boy, or tee shirt or camisole that is 3 sizes too small if you're a girl.

Now as he is running, and I'm rubbing my eye and shoving as much lint into it as possible, I noticed his shirt, which is a large Under Armor form fitting piece, is creeping up as his pants are creeping down.

I'm now waiting for the natural consequence. I'm waiting for the pants to hit the knee area and watch as he falls, hopefully screeching to a halt as the skin on his thighs brings him to a sudden halt.

Then I would stand there, washing out my eye and thinking smugly to myself, "That will teach him!" (Forgetting temporarily, that middle schoolers really don't learn anything the first time, or tenth time, or, wait, I'm getting depressed.)

Then I see him reaching down and I'm thinking, "He's going to pull his pants up! For the first time in a year, his underwear won't be showing! This is a remarkable day at our school!"

I was also thinking that if my shoe was untied, I'd tie it. If my hair (I mean that in the singular) was messy, I'd brush it. If my pants were falling down, I'd pull them up. It's just a natural reaction when disorder occurs to re-order it. Millions of years of evolution have made these reactions almost automatic.

But then he did something unexpected. What he did made me wonder about which direction this evolution thing is heading.

As his pants continued to head south, he PULLED HIS SHIRT DOWN.

Yep, he continued to run uncomfortably with his pants now at mid-thigh height and PULLED HIS SHIRT DOWN to cover his pant line (and not get in trouble for dress code violations).

As he disappeared down the hallway, I realized life had passed me by. I'd no longer be demographic that Hollywood movies or TV shows are aimed at. I'd preface conversations at school meetings with "When I was a kid..."

I'd maybe even start to use the term "Whipper Snapper."

But is it too late for me? Should I purchase baggy pants and pull my underwear out, or maybe get those shorts that really come down to just above the socks (I call them Manpris, a male version of the capri)? Should I wear my hat sideways?

Quite honestly, there is only one thing I can really do now. That's go to the nurse to get my eye washed out. Now if I can only avoid the whipper snappers on the way down.


(Looks like I'll have to address the largest crisis in America in my next blog: Grown Men Walking Small dogs)