"My underwear is in the Louvre."

"My underwear is in the Louvre."

In July 1998 I traveled to Europe with my best friend, Steve. One of the many places we visited was Paris, France. It was the one and only time I was in the Louvre.

Like millions before me, I stood in awe before The Mona Lisa. As well as the Venus de Milo, Winged Victory, and various Egyptian Antiquities.

Truthfully, I can't recall if I saw France’s historic collection of crown jewels (which is currently in the news). I think I'd remember them, but Chuck Berry didn't reference them in "Brown Eyed Handsome Man," so they likely weren't on my radar at the time.

What I do remember was having a pair of Bullwinkle boxer shorts in my backpack. They fell out as I went to retrieve something, though my recollection of what it was is fuzzy. Perhaps I was reloading film in my trusty 110 camera so I could snap a few blurry shots of Aphrodite of Melos (that's the aforementioned Venus de Milo to you and me).

Regardless, my unmentionables lay on a marble floor that tens of 1000s of feet would travel that very day.

What to do with such a snafu? Why not hide the underwear behind a large rock wall that is part of the traveling Greek Exhibit? Ah yes! What a wonderful plan for a 23 year year old world traveler who's prefrontal cortex was still two years from maturity. Also, this is 3 years before 9/11, so security was not what it would become. However, a painting, "Le chemin de Sèvres" by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot was stolen just 2 months prior, so maybe a protocol or two could have been zhuzhed. I digress...

Yes, the thought process of this single young gent was that he'd be able to honestly tell his dates, "My underwear is in the Louvre." Remember, the prefrontal cortex was still (and probably still is) immature. Also, what dates? (I would meet Julie a year later - ask her sometime, THIS trivial fact might be what won her over!)

So imagine my shock and horror on Sunday October 19th, when a well organized crew broken into the world's most famous museum and attempted to steal my Bullwinkle Boxers! Luckily, their efforts were thwarted by a post 9/11 security team. These bandits would have to settle for some worthless bobbles and trinkets from the Louvre’s Apollo Gallery.

I say Félicitations! to the crew of the Louvre who have kept vigilant watch over my underwear all these years latyer, just so I can continue to break the ice saying with 100% truthfulness, "My underwear is in the Louvre."

(*Though, if I'm being honest with myself, I'm sure a cleaning crew found and disposed of them a few decades ago)