Due to my recent weight loss, my wife bought me some pants at a local Goodwill. She found me some great deals.
As closet space is limited in our house, I decided to start going through mine and begin cleaning out some things. I happened to pick up a pair of grey pants that still fit, but, as I held them, I noticed that I could see light through a couple of sections of the seat.
That can’t be good, I thought.
Upon closer inspection, there were three or four almost-holes in the caboose. Not willing to risk a blowout, I threw them away.
Kinda bittersweet. And I normally don’t emotionally attach to trousers. I’ll explain.
Almost nine years ago, I became the pianist at Lexington Baptist Temple. I didn’t know how to dress for the position, and, as a bachelor in my late 20s, didn’t really know how to dress, well, at all.
After a few services in my ugly ties and baggie vests, my pastor, Earl Smith, pulled me aside to talk to me. He let me know that LBT was decidedly more Thomas Road than, well, whatever look I was trying to pull off. I told him that was fine, except I didn’t own any clothes like that.
He told me to go to Men’s Wearhouse and get two suits on his dime. The pants I threw away were from one of those suits.
Earl Smith passed away about 18 months later. What he did for me that day was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. And I think of him whenever I see those suits in my closet.
Bittersweet, like I said.