Old Men In Blue Jeans

Old men in blue jeans Dungarees – that’s what they were called, heavy, blue denim, metal button fly - form that followed function. The “cuffs” were rolled up because inseam sizing and “pre-worn” softened and frayed only occurred if you got them from an older sibling. Time has a way of softening things, Dungarees included. They shaped themselves to your needs, became one with your movements, stayed with you through the tough times, went to town with you, wore the scars and tears of youth moving forward, taught the lessons of toughness and tenderness, of reliable, responsible, dependability. The clothes did not make the man, the man gave meaning to the clothes, imbued them with his ethic, his love, his success and failures, stood with him in welcome rains and barren fields. The jeans, flannel shirts, boots, weathered face - caught between an ever present grin and grimace - awaited each sunrise with a purpose. The blue jeans are now faded by age, highlighted by wear and tear, creased in the rutted way of old roads – necessary but untended. They offer the comfort of memory’s warm embrace, the unspoken bond of a friendship shaped by the demands of life. They still walk together, these old men and their blue jeans, more slowly but no less proudly, for they have grown old together and know that “the clothes did not make them men”. John G. Lawless 1/1/2015