If you know the music of the Zac Brown Band, then you know they like their chicken fried, a cold beer on a Friday night, a pair of jeans that fit just right and the radio turned up.

That all sounds pretty good to me, even the part about the jeans. There is something about a pair of blue jeans that has been worn and washed enough times to fit your body perfectly. Once you get used to that feel, no other pair seems quite right. Can you relate?

As a kid, jeans did not matter much. Most of mine wore out at the knees from hours spent pushing Hot Wheels cars across the floor. The exception was Toughskins. They lived up to their name. The rest did not stand a chance. Fortunately, Mom was handy with a sewing machine. When my jeans developed holes, she patched the knees and gave them a second life. At the time, I thought those patches looked pretty cool.

I attended a Catholic grade school, where blue jeans were not part of the dress code. Outside of school, however, that was all I wore. Brand names did not matter much. The important thing was that they were long enough. Nobody wanted to be accused of wearing “floods.” They also had to be as flared as possible, which occasionally created problems with bicycle chains. It was the 1970s, after all.

By the time I reached junior high in the 1980s, Levi’s had become the jean of choice for both guys and girls. The fancy pocket-stitched disco jeans had mostly fallen out of favor, although my friend Ian somehow managed to make them work.

Back then, a new pair of Levi’s felt as stiff as cardboard. You could not wait to get them through a few wash cycles so your knees could bend without a struggle. Before long, new options appeared: button-fly, stone-washed and shrink-to-fit styles. As long as they carried the Levi’s label, most people were satisfied.

A few years ago, my wife bought me a pair of “skinny” jeans. I could not get them past my calves. These days, I prefer relaxed-fit jeans. I am not built like Earl Campbell, but I do appreciate a little extra room in the legs. As I have written many times, the older I get, the more I value comfort over style.

The worst part comes when a pair of jeans that fit perfectly finally wears out. Then the search begins again for a replacement that feels just as good. And the wear and tear on the jeans? Well, it is no longer the result of pushing Hot Wheels around on the floor. These days, it might have more to do with the fried chicken and cold beer.

Have a fantastic Friday, and thanks for reading.

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital newsletter
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-332-2707