Defeated by Pants

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As threatened, this is the weekly personal essay for subscribers. The first couple of graphs about my humiliating pants experiences are available for all; to read the whole thing subscribe at $5/month or $50 for the year.

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Defeated By Pants

Sometime in the last decade, my jeans stopped fitting. In theory, I should just be able to buy a bigger pair to reflect my expanding borders and general middle-age drift. But the problem has proved, like my body, to be less defined, and more shapeless, than I had hoped. I cinch my belt, and I feel the flatulent oof of mortality and failure as my pants sag perpetually, and somewhat mysteriously, kneeward.

“Wait a minute”, close readers familiar with pants are no doubt saying.  “You are fatter, and yet your jeans are falling down? What?”