About the time Joe's submitted his item on sock darning (click on www.ProBlogs.com/beanerywriters in the category Joe's Writings) I came across the following piece on The Missing Socks. It seemed appropriate to post it at this time! (This piece won honorable in a writing competition at the St. David's One Day conference, April 2001.) A television sitcom character acknowledged his pile of sixty-nine mismatched socks yielded four matching pairs, leaving sixty-one singles. Perhaps Bill and Hilliary Clinton named their cat Socks in deference to society’s greatest philosophical, theological, sociological and psychological problem, on which I did an informal survey: Where did the missing socks go? Random socks jeopardize marriages. My husband claims I trash half of each pair so he can’t wear them anymore. I reason: Why not trash both socks rather than devote space to lonely socks whose partners rarely return from the great beyond? “Isn’t it amazing?” questioned Howard* in response to my survey that uncovered the following list of missing sock theories. Theft (from an Internet chatroom dialogue): Joan’s first inclination that the sock fairy takes them was rebutted by George’s response that “little women with long green ears” snatch them and run, and Tiny’s claim that her cat steals socks, dirty or clean. Rachel blames her missing socks on roommates and pets. “They are on the same plane of existence,” she shared. “Very messy and irritating. My boy roommates steal them, and the ferret steals them out of the laundry basket.” She thinks she’s answered the mystery, but what does a twenty year old really know? Political: Sock companies and washer manufacturers have an agreement, revealed Carlisle. (More profit for the sock companies if manufacturers make sock-eating machines---is there a kickback for the washer manufacturers?) Dietary: The hungry washing machine eats one every now and then, stated Pat. Some machines have specialty appetites---Benjamin’s only eats white socks. Longevity: Rebel explains that machines use socks for energy, enabling more lifecycles. Theological: You have to feed the demon deity dryer to appease it, Vance suggested. Or perhaps they decompose into dust, the essence of life, Pat added. (So that’s how dust-kittens are created!) Reincarnation: Fibers disintegrate into lint from old age, Pat theorized. Reproduction: They hook up with the pantyhose and raise footies, Pshally stated firmly. The missing sock mystery elicits creative accommodations. Pat suggests putting socks in the bottom of the washer and filling the machine less, while Pshally and Pet instruct socks should be worn in the tub and washed only while bathing. Topforester purchases only black socks, buying a new package every time he shops. “I have enough to last me one month,” said the forest ranger. Top also suspects some socks are run-aways, and asks people who find his to return them to him. Odd socks aren’t useless. Paired together they make adequate footwear for one professor, who concluded matching socks aren’t a major issue in the larger scheme of life. But most people consider unmatched socks socially unacceptable. The mystery isn’t universal. “All my socks come through the washer and dryer,” stated Mark. The mystery deepens, according to Joe, who suggests keeping the odd socks. “Somewhere, sometime, out of nowhere, the mate will show up, but you never discover where it came from.” Jimmy provides the final comment: “Don’t worry about the socks you cannot find,” he muses. “Worry about the extras!” *Last names and locations are omitted to protect the identity of the interviewees from the revenge of the missing socks. | 
