Pants on the Ground, Pants on the Ground

One of the fun programs on television is “American Idol,” it is filled with drama, talent, bizarreness, luck, divine guidance, dreams and nightmares come true depending on the contestants. It is as they say in the business “great T.V.,” but it is the bizarreness that most attracts me, last year was a classic. A homeless black man who went by the name of General Larry Platt, who in his sixties, was bizarre enough to make it in front of the three judges and cameras, everyone, including Larry, knew he had no chance, merely due his age, but this was “great T.V.”, so when the judges finished talking he began to sing the soon to be viral hit classic “Pants on the ground, pants on the ground, nothing but fools with their pants on the ground.”A clothing line soon followed, as did bumper stickers, tattoos, as well as making the “View,” and the Minnesota Vikings lockeroom as a fight song.

The other day I walked about a mile to the gym Carol and I belong to, I’m working extra hard to lose weight for my upcoming double knee replacement surgery, so working out and dieting have become an obsession, withing my regular workouts I’m also doing a lot of pre-surgery conditioning to strengthen my core, legs and upper body, so walking to the gym every once in awhile only adds to the effort.

On my walk home I decided to make a detour off the streets and walk Mission Viejo’s Country Clubs very private cart paths, this felt less naughty because it had rained for days and I knew no one would be out playing. The sun was beating faithfully though windows in the abundantly powerful clouds, full of white and substance, the air was cool with a gentle breeze keeping your senses alert.  I had a hooded sweat shirt, short workout pants, a tank top and nothing but time.

As I walked the steep cart path along the first hole (Actually the 15^th) on my walk, I was under a canopy of Fir, Birch and Eucalyptus trees, when the hole turned right, the 15^th green appeared surrounded by beautiful white sand traps. The contrast of the dark green trees, the light green grass and the white sand traps assaulted my senses.

I walked slower.

I walked once again up more steepness (yes, my knees hurt), I came to the sixteenth tee box, from on top you could see down two hundred yards to the green and sand traps below, walking down the steep cart path was painful, but my gate slowed more due the scene then the pain. When I finally arrived at the last tee box, which was a hundred and fifteen yards to the green, I noticed the very steep slope of grass that cascaded down the remaining hill, with no one around I lowered my body down on the slop, laying out flat with my head back staring at the hole in the sky with its penetrating sun beams.

I was in heaven. A golf course, a beautiful skyline, birds flying as if choreographed, an invigorating breeze, lying down, praying, thanking, thinking, and remembering my family who loved the game of golf. My mind wondered from my youth to my future.

I was alone but surrounded by joyful, pleasant thoughts, I became more thankful to God. As I soaked in the sun, I heard something, I lifted my head a little and cocked my ear, nothing, or was it something, I almost laid back down but felt a presence, I rolled onto my stomach and peaked back over the edge to the tee box, there it was, a human teeing up his ball, which would shortly be flying directly over my head. I arose slowly because of my knees hoping all the while that the man was one of those kibitzing golfers who took a lot of time to address his ball. He was.

I finally made it my feet and walked sideways as far as I could before he hit the ball, I angled upwards to get out of his sight (golfers hate people in their vision while hitting a golf ball), he didn’t notice, he didn’t speak, was it his voice I heard, was it just sounds he made getting his clubs. He had to be a member and members don’t like citizens on the golf course, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at me. As I watched him hit and walk down towards the green pulling his golf cart, I became aware that perhaps he never saw me.

Weirdly, as he walked away out of sight so did the sun beam. My time in the sun was over.

As I walked very slowly home, I realized that my pants were soaked, and my smile felt permanent. I knew that for a few moments I stole ultimate joy from the day, I thought about being too busy to see these precious moments.

As I walked home with squishy pants, I couldn’t help thinking how mad my mom would’ve been if I’d come  home with dirty, wet pants, all I needed was to have a frog in my pants to cap off the moment.

It isn’t often that nature captures your youth, and when it does you need to savor it. I made a vow to spend more time with my pants on the ground, it only takes a few moments, but if you put your pants on the ground it will be priceless.