On The Little Way: 31W x 30L

"It is not a bad thing to settle for the Little Way, not the big search for the happiness but the sad little happiness of the drinks and kisses, a good little car and a warm deep thigh." -- Walker Percy, "The Moviegoer"

I very much enjoyed this quote on the "sad little happiness[es]" of life. I, too, have such things. Things I am particular about. Things that are of the drinks and kisses of the little way. Namely, jeans. It has been a very trying few days for me. Over the weekend the Mrs. discovered this gash in my favorite pair of jeans.

Long before I worked at the Gap I was very particular about jeans. For example, people say "jeans go with everything" -- every outfit, every color. False. There are some light-colored jeans that should not be worn with a grey shirt. And there are some shades of blue jeans that shouldn't be worn at all. When it comes to buying a pair of jeans, I shop around. It takes about 4 to 5 trips to several stores to find the perfect pair (It drives the Mrs. so crazy she won't come with me anymore).

In a typical year I wear one pair (by pair I mean one jean only, but that sounds funny) of jeans. Said pair is broken in and of such a color to go with most anything (but not everything -- so I usually have a pair of jeans of a different color to match the shirt that the favorite pair doesn't go with and also, for other reasons, as I'll explain). Over the year the pair becomes, as one can imagine, worn down and threadbare -- usually in the knee. And usually I am aware of the wearing down in those places and can manage to make the pair last about a month longer than it should. And by last I mean: in such a condition as to wear out in public without embarrassing the Mrs.

(I realize my eccentricity. For example, my best friend has had the same pair of jeans for about 4 years now (Don't think I haven't noticed. I notice jeans like a normal man notices women or cars. Like Carrie noticed shoes.). How do I know? His particular pair is differentiated by a Abercrombie fashioned hole in the thigh. I once had a pair with a hole in the thigh much like his. Except it was created by me running into an exposed end of a pool table one week after said pair became the pair. Tragic. But I wore them anyway for the next year.)

Now this gash occurred in the bottom (and that is my bottom in the picture). I'm not sure why or how that happened. I am at a loss. The Mrs. says she can make them wearable and repair the gash. However, she is 9 months pregnant, working 10 hours a day and altogether miserable (in a happy way of course!) that I don't see the repair coming anytime soon. And I have been forbidden to wear them out until they can be fixed. (Already, I've worn them out twice. And both times were without her knowing -- though she found out last night and yelled at me!)

No worries. I have had another pair that I've been warily and reluctantly working into the rotation -- trying to break them in and settle them down for the long haul. So far, it's working. I'm adjusting to them; liking the color of them (they're lighter than my current pair in the repair shop); they're starting to feel comfortable -- relinquishing the stiffness I hate in new jeans. Now, I knew the day would come that I'd have to give up my favorite pair of jeans. I just wasn't ready for it. Not yet.

So, my favorite pair of jeans is one of my sad, little happinesses. And, today, I am saddened because my happiness in them is coming to an end. A happiness that looked forward after a long day of work to putting them on. A happiness that stopped dressing up at work and wearing them daily (I sit behind a desk at a television station, I chose my profession, in part, because I don't have to dress up). A happiness that looked good in mirrors. A happiness that felt like a part of me.

And, I know, a sad, little, yet new happiness is about to begin, but, parting, is of such sorrow.