So, you own a pair of sweatpants. They might live with your boot socks, or be shacking up with your long johns in your underwear drawer. They might be laying on the floor, kicked-off and discarded in the corner, or folded neatly on your dresser, in your closet, your armoire. You could be wearing them right at this moment.
That comfortable caressing cotton, that unrestrictive flexible waistband, that perfect little round grease stain complements of the hoagie you ate yesterday afternoon. I'm talkin’ sweatpants, people. But unfortunately, all is not as it seems to be.
Beknownst to me, but unbeknownst to you; that pile of awesome legged comfortableness is far more evil than you could ever imagine. For some fat folk, sweatpants are a gateway. A gateway to another dimension of being.
First, you wear them only in the house, or under your waders when the chill is on.
You wear them in the morning while your shower warms up, or on Sunday afternoon while sitting on the couch eating Cheetos and watching a House marathon.
Then one sweatpant wearing day you do it. It’s just a little thing: going to get the mail, the paper, something out of your car. But even if you realize what just happened, it’s too late. Your are wearing sweatpants in public, and there is no hope for you.
Soon it will be to the store, or the post office, or your uncle Dave’s house to help him patch some drywall. There you are, patching drywall in sweatpants.
You are falling to the death of your self image, and you don’t even know it.
Then one day you and your sweatpants are walking around in Wal-Mart looking for a new grill set and you pass a rack of fanny packs. You stop, slowly turn and look. “Hmm” you say to no one in particular. “A fanny pack… I could keep all kinds of neat stuff in that and my sweatpant pockets are pretty small.”
Fanny pack in hand, on the way to the BBQ aisle, you pass the shoe department and something catches your eye. You, your sweatpants, and your fanny pack walk over to look. Is it? Oh my, they are! Velcro Shoes! Oh Boy! My sweatpants and I could do so many more things if we weren’t wasting all day tying out shoes! Add to that the awesome stuff we could carry around with this fanny pack and we would be unstoppable!
You are so excited you forget about the BBQ set and run home to show your wife all the awesomeness you got. She is not there, only a note:
I have taken the kids and gone to my sister’s house. I just could not handle the sweatpants anymore. You have a problem! Admit it and get help. I just couldn’t have the kids see you like this anymore.
Whatever, she just doesn’t understand. You still got your sweatpants, your fanny pack full of sweetness, and your sweet Velcro shoes. Nobody understands. You don’t have a problem, you can stop whenever you want.
The next thing you know you are friendless, jobless, wifeless, all because one day you wore some sweatpants outside. Think about it.
So remember my hefty brethren, under the waders, or indoors. Leave the traipsing around outside in sweatpants to the skinny folk.
-Alex who may or may not wearing fatman pants at this moment.
now that there's funny! i don't care who ya r.
ReplyDeleteIn Ireland, what ever pants I am wearing they call fat guy pants!
ReplyDeleteRemember like Lycra, Sweatpants are a privilege.
ReplyDeleteI was wondering if this was a self-chronicle of revelation. You didn't mention the Gen-X version of sweatpants, the veritable fleece pant bottom, something of which I know very little about.
ReplyDeleteNext time, don't forget to lump in Zubaz with those sweatpants too.
The latest installment in the evolution of FatGuy Pants: cargo pants.
ReplyDeletePlenty of pockets, they never shrink in the waistband - might even grow - and virtually nobody under 50 wears them.
Kind of like the ubiquitous Ex-Officio type casting shirt. Great to fish in, but they are lame.
When I wear my old Sportif/Columbia casting shirts with nylon cargo pants I look like I am a) ready to go fishing, or b)ready for bed in my pj's, or, c) one of the many boring fuckin hikers that populate this valley.
I even have a Wrinkleneck Fly Champion Columbia casting shirt, complete with my name on it - good as a conversation-starter with truckstop waitresses - that one of my misguided teammates purchased in a fit of Wrinkleneck-winning pride.
It does not get much lamer than that.
well, fishing shirts and zip-off cargo pants r a lot like pipes, cigars, pipes, flasks, and tilley hats. u sort of hav 2 age n2 them or else they do seem a bit goofey on u. but so does driving a cadillac or an suv. but once u hit 40, all of that stuff is suddenly "cool" and tattered ball caps, printed tshirts, jeans w/holes n them, and coupes w/more money n aftermarket mopar accessories, audio, tint, and graphics than their bluebook value become "lame." so it's all relative. we've already done as much damage as our livers and pancreases can stand w/o killing ourselves, so we trade our coolers full o beer n 4 a small flask o whiskey. we've had our 1st scare w/skin cancer, so casting shirts and wide-brimmed hats become our 2nd layer of sunscreen. and as much as u youngsters might enjoy a nice toke on a quality cigar or swirl of pike smoke by a campfire after a long day of fishing, u just look silly doing it b4 ur hair starts 2 gray. and a good 4x4 suv is just the most practical vehicle the world has ever produced 4 the avid outdoorsman w/other responsibilities. and...like ticks...it's hard 2 walk thru life w/o picking some of those up along the way.
ReplyDeleteThe Tilley hat, a pipe, compulsory 4x4 - the Evolutionary Deadends of Flyfishing.
ReplyDeleteThe only thing worse are those Indiana Jones-inspired fedoras, some even with mesh for the crown or brim. Granola people, as one acidtongued guide on the green called them.
Don't get me wrong, I have great affection for old pipes and stinky little cigars, as those were fixtures for the guys who mentored me in flyfishing many moons ago. Bamboo rods, handtied leaders, even a touch of tweed, whiskey tasting better out of a tin cup beside the fire - I get it, and have my "tics" and quirky habits picked up along the way. I can hardly cast a fly without a bandana round the neck, and, having lived in S. Arizona for more than 30 years, know about sun protection.
Something needs to save flyfishing, and it's not another movie.
Great line from Seinfeld back in the day:
ReplyDeleteYou know the message you're sending out to the world with these sweatpants? You're telling the world, "I give up. I can't compete in normal society. I'm miserable, so I might as well be comfortable."
Spandex may be a privilege, but there are a lot of people who are abusing that privilege.
ReplyDeleteFleece bottom pants are sweatpants without elastic bands around the ankles. And only for athletes and slim women with junk in the trunk.
Cargo Pants kick ass. period. Wearing them is tactical in itself, whatever your age. Especially if they zip into shorts.
I wouldn't trade a cooler for of beer for anything, unless I had to carry it all day.
Whiskey does always taste better out of a camp cup next to a fire.
Fly Fishing doesn't need saving, because it's not dying. It just needs a cargo pant wearing, large knife carrying, hard drinking punch in the face.
That's the spirit..now yer talkin'
ReplyDeleteHas anyone ever zipped the legs off the cargo pants?
Come on, admit it - you're afraid to, because you might lose one of the legs and really look silly.
Fat Guys never, ever worry about looking silly - that may be the salvation of Fly Fishing.
I'm 43, 6'1", weigh 265, smoke cigars, wear cargo pants, carry at least one knife at all times, fly fish with fiberglass, eat greasy cheeseburgers, drink vodka and drive a 4wd chevy. I couldn't give less of a crap what anybody thinks. Life is good...
ReplyDeleteDF- well said. Like to try out those leaders of yours someday.
ReplyDeleteu fellas r killing me. lol this is good stuff.
ReplyDeleteand yes i hav zipped off my cargo pants, thank u very freaking much! when ur a REAL fish bum, u often liv out of ur old 4x4 suv w/over 220k miles on it and spend weeks wandering back and forth between warm and cold water streams n spring and fall at various altitudes. this means: wet wading, breathable waders, and insulated layers under breathable waders. so u pack as few clothes as poss. that means zip-off pants made of quick-drying materials and no freaking underwear, boyz...go commando. otherwise, ur truck will b full of funky undies n no time flat and u'll hav a raging case of jock itch.
now, if ur going home n a day or 2 so that momma can do ur laundry, those levi's foll of holes, funny boxers, and kool printed tshirts might b fine.
alex -- as u get older, ur buddies start 2 die off, surrender their fishing priveleges to wives, bosses, and kids, and ur doc really starts 2 show u some nasty pics of ur dead buddies' livers. so u end up having 2 carry that cooler full o beer urself, and it quickly leads 2 moderation. just stating the facts. been further down the trail, and now looking back over my shoulder. it's that danged 20/20 hindsight. i'll stip trip over the next rock ahead and bite dirt. n fact, it's funny how we fall more when we're young and old. but on the parts of the trail i've already covered, i speak from experience...who is a cruel, but effective teacher.
Alex,
ReplyDeleteLove the blog and what it seems to NOT stand for. I wasn't jonesin' for a free plug; even though it kinda turned out that way. I think the bunch of baggy drawered, pot belly'd, hairy legged guys I fish with are probably interchangeable with you three. That being said, I plan on making every attempt at never allowing all of us to be in the same state at once. You can shoot me an email thru the contact page on my website.
http://www.nosweatpants.com/
ReplyDeleteI say we pitch in a get Alex some khaki dockers (with the pleated cuffs at the bottom) and navy blue blazer before it's too late.
great blog. I fish deckers all the time never have seen kyle out there.
ReplyDeleteDan, I work and live at the Wigwam club, so I fish the Cheeseman canyon most of the time, I just have to open the gate to get in there instead of the hike in, I am very lazy, I try not to walk
ReplyDeleteI know that uniform you've described very well!
ReplyDeleteSounds like a vicious circle bro!
ReplyDeletelol @ uniform!