Those old jeans.

My favorite pair of jeans is so old, the left front pocket has a hole on the bottom that two fingers can fit through. I'd like to make a clever metaphor like: the tatter exposed hole to my leg represents the ripping away of youth and the beginning of a vulnerable and exposed adulthood. Or: the hole is symbolic of being time to let go of the past and looking toward a future pair of jeans.

Sadly, really all it means is that I will lose a lot of fuckin quarters if I keep tossing change into that pocket.

But: The loss of change through a tattered pocket has a deeper meaning. It's time to change my old ways and change into a new pair of jeans.

I really like the feel of old jeans. I feel like I earned the right to keep wearing them. It takes forever to break in a pair of jeans, and I believe this pair in particular has been with me through brake grease, oil spills, engine gunk, thunder storms, dirt trudging and drunken midnight oceanic escapades. How do you give up something like that?

Do consider: The tattered pocket brings to you an eventuality that missed opportunities are trickling away out of your grasp.

I've gone through and given up on so many new pairs of jeans. They're still stiff and when washed, they come out feeling even stiffer. I don't know how many times I'd have wear them before they are broken in to the same degree as this useless pocket pair of jeans.

Truth: The ripped pocket represents the tailor bill from the local dry cleaners as they do their magic, like modern day shamans on a wounded soul, repairing my pants to more youthful days.