See these pants on the ground? They’ve been on a journey. In mid-November, I was in DC to rehearse with The Philosopher’s Tones. While there, I went to my favorite thrift store and bought a couple of pairs of jeans.

Because of my scent issues, I washed them several times and then hung them up on the balcony to air out. They’d been there since November 14th.

Last night, NYC had a windstorm. I had laundry hanging out there in addition to the two pairs of pants.

“I should bring the laundry in in case the wind catches any of it.” I didn’t relish explaining how and why my underwear ended up on someone’s windshield three stories below.

So, I grabbed a laundry bag and rushed to the balcony. I got the hanging laundry and turned to get the pants. I saw one pair.

“Where’s the other pair?” I thought.

I looked around the balcony, but it was dark. I figured they were somewhere on the floor.

Nope.

“Oh, no! Did they end up on someone’s windshield?”

Nope. Whew!

When I finally found them, the wind had tossed them into a nearby tree!

“Rich? I need your help.” I called to him.

He walked out to the balcony, took one look, and said, “I’ll be back.”

He grabbed a long dowel and a clothes hanger and fashioned a hook. He strode out to the balcony like a man on a mission. He was going to retrieve those pants and by my hero (or so he said).

“Where are they, again?” He asked.

“They’re in that tree,” I pointed.

“No, they’re not,” he said.

He was right. The tree stood bereft of pants. We looked up and down the tree, but the pants were gone! We investigated the windshields of nearby cars, but they, too, remained sans pants.

“Maybe they flew into someone’s balcony below us,” I posited. “I’ll knock on some doors tomorrow.”

This morning I meekly knocked on all my neighbors’ doors. No one had my pants, but they all did look at me like I’m touched in the head.

I made my way outside and looked around on the street.

Nope. No pants.

I went into our building’s private garden and searched. I was just about to give up, but then I saw a flash of dark blue on the otherwise brown landscape.

“Hmm, could those be my pants? Could those be someone else’s pants the wind also tossed onto the ground?” Yes, I asked those questions. Why? Because I’ve never actually worn these pants, and I didn’t really remember what they looked like.

But sure enough. They’re my pants. No one else was stupid enough to have laundry hanging on a balcony during a windstorm. Just yours truly.

Needless to say, they’re now back in the bosom of their family. Drying on the radiator.

Oh, and you might be wondering if they’re finally de-fragranced.

Nope!

Once they dry and the wind calms down, I’ll be washing them again.

And yes, they’ll go back out on the balcony to dry.

Why? Because if they’re meant to fly free on the wind, who am I to stop them?