Somebody Get That Kid Some Pants.

I think that 6"4 is the perfect height, and I'm honored for being picked - by genetics, L. Ron Hubbard, Allah or whomever - to be part of such a wonderful club. You tower over 75% of the population, but thankfully don't classify as freakishly tall. Basketball is a professional option, you get to put the star on top of the Christmas tree, it's easy to forage for honeycomb and bird eggs - basically the pros far outweigh the cons. That is unless you're shopping for trousers.

Saturday afternoon a friend and I went out for an early dinner but stopped at the mall beforehand since we were in the neighborhood. I had put some cash aside for new pants (as you do) and immediately ran into Filene's to start what I knew from experience would be a long, arduous and disappointing process. You see, in addition to my long inseam (ladies?) I also have wide hips - size 38 to be exact. People who are my weight and height don't usually have size 38 hips - I guess I just have to blame my pesky pelvis for that. So finding pants that fit - which don't also look like I stole them from Mr. Creosote - is nothing less than an odyssey.

While I tried on pair after pair, my lovely assistant whipped around the store grabbing potentials to try on. Size 38 pants, off the rack, always have inseams of either 32 (too short) or 34 (too long). There are never 33 inseams to speak of, so I have to hunt high and low until I find a short one that's a little too long, or a long one that's a little too short. I came away with 4 new pairs that are varying degrees of ill-fitting, but passable. Just in case any of you were still wondering why I'm not a fashion model by now. Shaq has an easier time buying clothes.