The Pants

As a child, I was concerned about decency and modesty.

I would always button my shirt to the very top button. I never undressed around other people — it didn’t matter who it was.

So you can imagine my consternation when, in 1997, my pants were sucked off from the force created by a 30-horsepower motor on the back of a fishing boat.

How it happened:
I was enjoying a leisurely inner tube ride along the calm waters of the North Fork lake when, suddenly, a certain Mr. Presley (the person who controlled the poor excuse of a boat) looked behind him, and had issues with how well I was enjoying the pristine waters and the relaxing spa-like nature of the experience.

He concluded that a youngster as strong and formidable as myself ought not to enjoy such pleasures to the extent that I was.

He increased the propulsion of the engine’s propellers. Thus causing young Caleb to be concerned about his life not making it past that point.

I hollered and motioned for him to slow down but to no avail.

Because of my previously relaxed state and because I was taken by surprise, I had no time to reposition myself on the tube. I was hanging off the back of it.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, the woven casing around the tube began to rip apart at the seams. It was as if the inner tube was saying, “Whoa, I wasn’t made for this kind of speed.”

I wasn’t either, especially since this was my first time on a tube.

As I hollered, as I motioned, and as the canvas cover crept closer to my neck, all I could hear was the maniacal laugh emanating from Mr. Presley as he increased the speed.

As I said, the canvas cover had ripped and was starting to touch my neck, and I thought I was about to head on to that Big Lake up in the sky. Then suddenly, the water rushing around my legs felt different.

The flimsy elastic waistband in my pants had decided it hadn’t signed up for that kind of pressure.

And it no longer held onto hope or me. I looked back, and my pants were floating atop the water.

And the entire congregation from my church was positioned on the hill overlooking the water, watching.

And they were doubled over with laughter.

And I thought death was the worst thing that could happen that day.

The moral of the story: If you wear pants with an elastic waistband, don’t get around rushing water, especially in public.

to those who go to the lake,
– Caleb