Socks

I wonder if there is a planet named Socks. It’s the place where missing socks go. I mean, just where do socks go? You put a pair in the washer but only one comes out. You put a pair in the dryer but only one comes out. Does the missing sock dissolve into lint? Does it escape through the dryer vent and having escaped travel to parts unknown? Does it join the sock underground and live the rest of its days clandestinely?

You put a pair of socks in the clean laundry basket to be carried upstairs, sorted, folded, and put in the sock drawer – but once upstairs there is only one sock, where did the other go? Is there a mother ship that beams socks up to live long and prosper? Are the beamed-up socks embarked on an adventure destined to take them where no socks have gone before?

What of those socks that escape while they are still dirty? Is that against the rules? Do the clean socks on the run shun dirty socks? Are dirty socks known as “sock trash”? If a dirty sock is mistakenly beamed-up is it summarily placed in an ejection pod and sent back to earth? Or perhaps the dirty sock is quarantined and laundered in space?

Since I can’t travel to Easter Island and ponder the strange statues there I have to content myself with pondering socks, and since I can’t get to first base with E=MC2 I’ll mentally wrestle with socks – though I can’t seem to get to first base with socks either.

Maybe the secret life of socks is the basis for a new reality television show – it would beat most of what’s on; plus it would add to our understanding of the universe and might even lead to the discovery of an unknown planet.