Once upon a time mrguy and I were members of a very large ukulele band. Leading up to the Aloha Festival Auntie Mary (real name) was firm: we had to wear black pants and closed-toe black shoes. She said, quite specifically, that she didn't want to see our toes.
On the day of the festival Phil, a much beloved member of the band, rolled up backstage wearing his usual almost pants -- shorts that were only about 4 inches above his socks. As punishment Auntie made him stand in the back row. He was about 5' 2", and nobody would see him back there. We still talk about it.
A few years later, when a bunch of us formed a ukulele band of our own, we were joking around in the car on the way to our own gig. Our bandmate made a joke about the fact that he was wearing shorts, not pants. Mrguy said "I declare pants freedom!" by which he mean that pants were mandatory but the kind of pants was not.
For some reason mrguy's been talking a lot about pants freedom this week, clarifying that pants freedom is freedom of pants, not freedom from pants.
And speaking of pants my friend's mom, who lives in independent living in the community where my mom lives, declared pants freedom of her own recently. Apparently she went to the lobby without any on, and was invited to move to memory care soon after. She'll be three doors down from my mom.
Sorry I missed the inciting event.
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