My middle son gave up riding a bike during his elementary-school years because of the discomfort of pedaling with nothing between his jeans and his personals. During this brief but unfortunate childhood phase, he swore off boxers and briefs. He refused to go to the trouble of pulling on a barrier between himself, his zipper and disaster. Not since then have undergarments weighed so heavily on my mind.
And never have I concerned myself with the unmentionables of others, until now. I have a friend who sees a lot of underwear other than her own. Viewing foundation garments tossed on the floor is a hazard of her profession. She’s a nurse. Nothing much shocks her. But the day she walked into an examining room and spotted the patient’s skivvies adorned with the well-known words Happy! Happy! Happy! she took a closer look. Who can blame her?
Using her adept skills of observation, my nurse friend established that by all outward appearances the person on the exam table was a grown woman, an adult, or at least of adult proportions. “Are those yours?” she asked the patient, surprised at the words coming out of her mouth.
The patient nodded, perplexed about this line of questioning and what it had to do with her ailment.
“Where did you get them?”
Once informed of this discovery of adult-sized Duck Dynasty “character” underwear, I had to go see for myself – not the underwear on the exam room floor, the underwear on the shelf at Walmart. The idea of Si’s face on a pair of lady’s underpants shocked and enthralled me. I wanted, I needed to confirm for myself that indeed the Duck Dynasty men had stooped to the same level as Superman and placed their visages on vital foundation garments.
Thoughts raced: What do the Duck Dynasty wives think of their men being in other women’s underpants? Do the men retain creative input about the location of their likenesses on the unmentionables? Is there a demand among the general adult population for character underwear with pop-culture heroes? In the inconvenient incidence of flatus, do ducks flock from miles around to the wearer of the Duck Dynasty under drawers? These questions brought me discomfort and giggles.
Please forgive me if I have ventured into controversy. My singular goal is informed consumerism. Close examination of the product revealed that Duck Dynasty underwear hosts show quotes – My Hands Smell Like Taco Meat and I Ain’t No Yuppie and Hey Jack! You Can’t Fix Stupid – not Phil or Willie or Jase. It all looked benign on initial scrutiny.
(Those timid about this topic should avert their eyes now. Those who choose to continue reading may not blame me for offense.)
Duck Dynasty underwear, in addition to briefs and bikini styles, comes in a thong design, as well. The minimal triangle portion reads Hey! Look Here Jack! On principle, I’m opposed to my underwear sawing me in half and doubly opposed to anyone, even Jack, watching me suffer through such.
To the people who saw me lurking on Walmart’s underwear aisle, I’m not a creeper. I was conducting market research to the benefit of us all.
To the person who asked me if I was wearing Duck Dynasty underwear and I said “Got ‘em on right now,” I apologize. I lied. I wanted you to think I’m cool. But I’m not. If I had to choose between pedaling a bike wearing nothing between my jeans and my personals or sporting Sting Like a Butterfly Punch Like a Flea on my panties, I’d opt to go old school like my son.