Something that used to be easy for me now takes a ridiculously long time: buying a new pair of jeans. That’s because I like jeans. The blue things that hang down and cover my legs.

But you can’t buy those anymore, at least not the kind I grew up with.  Now they’re all “easy fit” and “low riders.” Listen, there’s nothing “easy fit” about jeans that are designed to barely hang off the edge of your hips, showing everyone your underwear.  There is no Calvin Klein. It’s now Calvin Crack.

The store had a kind of style--and I am not making this up--called “Loose Straight.” What the hell is that, a heterosexual who dances to rhythm and blues?  Also “Low Rise Straight.” But it didn’t come with prescription pills that take care of that kind of thing, so I passed.

When they do have the style of jeans I want, they’re always labeled “Classic Fit"--apparently because it’s completely old fashioned to not want to show the world your ass.  When I was a kid, you could tell the old men because they wore their pants almost up to their neck, as though they expected to be wading in a lake. But I guess the tables have turned.  Kids will be pointing to me and saying “Look, his jeans actually taper to his ankle, rather than acting like little mini blue parachutes, and it closes around his waist.  Nice look, pops!” I’m depleting all my savings to buy every goddamn “classic fit” in my size that I can find. I have a feeling they’ll be gone the next time my jeans cycle forces me to go out hunting for them.