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Sunday, December 9, 2012

38 32 30 32 48 17 , Not a locker combo or lottery ticket

 My best friend from high school-who is still one of my best friends to this day-had his youngest childs Bat Mitzvah today. I was there to see that. He has 3 kids, two boys and a girl. A boy has a Bar Mitzvah when he becomes 13 to signify he is a man, and I was at both of those as well. Today was his young girls turn. As of today,  she is now a woman in the eyes of Jewish culture.



One of my earliest "grown up" suit pics.


 It is always a good day when this happens because it means I get to see my friends again, which is always great and the best part of the whole thing. As we grow older, it seems we see each other less and less. It also meant getting dressed up in a suit, which is the worst part of the whole thing. I am not one for getting dressed up, and other than weddings, Bar or But Mitzvahs, funerals or company parties I never do it. Just not my thing. I am very casual when it comes to clothes. The old movies and TV shows where you see the husband in suit or tie in the house or at a sporting event is not something I can relate to. It is just not me. As soon as I get home my first order of business is to get out of those clothes and into a t-shirt and pair of track pants.

Ward Cleaver reading the newspaper at home,  in his dressed up shirt and tie. That would never be me.
The suit I currently wear is very old. Very, very old. My best recollection is that I got it when my sister got married 26 years ago in 1986. I remember that because what I had then wasn't much good either so my grandmother insisted she take me out to the mall and buy me a new one. After some stubborn relenting,  I gave in.

Suit I wore just up until my sister got married. This was taken in 1987 at her engagement party. I still have that red tie.
Most of what happened to that suit along the way I don't remember. I still have the tie and the jacket. The pants would not even come close to fitting anymore. I am at least 70 pounds heavier now than I was then.

Suit I wore on my Wedding day in 1997. Except for the shirt I have the rest of it and wore that today.
I have gone through several pairs of pants since, and that is mostly because of my increased waistline. That brings me to some old memories.
We have all experienced buying pants as a kid. The first thing you do after you decide if you like the style of the pants, is to look at the inside tag. For me, when I was a very slim teenager that meant I wore a 30x32. Anyone of my age knows what that means; a 30 inch waist and a 32 inch length. I probably got away with that until I was about 15, when a 30 inch waist would be extremely tight. Even at that point, lying on my back on the bed to get the button done up and the zipper zipped up would have been a chore. I know this, because I tried it a few times. Even when you did finally get done up, when you stood up you couldn't walk--and barely move. And sitting down? Nope. Not if you wanted to breathe. It is possible that my ability to produce offspring may have been compromised at that point.
After that,  I was a 32 waist for a long time. Comfortably. I still remember when that got a shade tight, because I noticed it. The idea of becoming a 34 was pretty horrid to me. In my mind it equaled being fat. I rejected the notion for a long time and would either lose weight or suffer wearing pants that were way too tight.  Until I couldn't ignore that fact as I hit my thirties. Then, as I stopped exercising much and began training horses, my diet got even worse than it had always been and I was in 36 territory. Which was not something I could accept in my mind. But I had to. Even then, 36 became very tight very fast.
Two years ago I was in Canton, Ohio to visit my friend Denise and see the football hall of fame. We were meeting for dinner and the 36 pair of pants I had simply were not going to fit. So, before dinner, we went to The Gap and I purchased four pairs of pants. Two were size 36 and two were size 38. The 36 were still very tight, while the 38 was very loose. But, I wore the 38's. To this day, I have never worn the 36's, because while I could, they are still too tight. I am close to getting into them, but not quite yet. 
At this point,  those 38's are very loose, to the point I pretty much have to hold them up as I walk. I have never liked wearing a belt, so this is something I just have to deal with.
This morning as I got ready and dressed for the But Mitzvah I hauled out all my "dress clothes". I have some new shirts that fit comfortably and look good, so that isn't an issue. The tie is always one of two, and I chose the one I wore to my sisters and my own wedding. It has always been my favorite. Then....we came to the pants. I have 3 pairs, but I can never remember which one to wear.
I eliminated one pair right away. The one with the tag 36x32. That was easy. The clip on it was torn off, because I tried to wear it two years ago to my mothers funeral and it tore off because it was way too tight. The pants are still in great shape, but I am not even close to fitting in them. Then the second pair, also a 36, but way too tight. I would have to suck some major gut to fit into those, and I have no intention of doing that. I will wear them again, when I lose some weight. That is something I intend on doing in the very near future. But that future was not this day,  so they were out as well.
Then we got to the pair I ended up wearing. The one with the 38x32 tag inside. Even at the last Christmas party I went to in 2011, they were very tight. Uncomfortably tight. But they fit. Today, they were just a bit tight, but not as much. 
I am going to be 48 in less than a months time, and I have to realize than I am not 17 anymore. I will likely never see size 34 ever again. Even if I do, it would be a very tight fit. I think I can make 35 comfortably, and 36 is still an admittance that I need to shed more pounds. But 38 is failure. As I sat in my 38x32 at the But Mitzvah today, I had to admit that to myself. Something I would not have done at 17, but must do at almost 48.   





   




  


Mark Jadd's mom. "Larger".

1 comment:

  1. my boys love Denise The Menace and we got all the seasons out. The Dad on their too is always reading his newspapers in a jacket and tie and I got such a kick out of that. Then he'd take a nap on the couch! I couldn't figure out when he ever went to work.

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