For instance -- once while driving our trusty green cavalier a piece of scaffolding fell off a truck in front of us on the freeway-- the scaffolding hit the front left tire and blew it completely out and somehow I managed to get over to the shoulder of 610 just before the big ship channel bridge (we were on our way to Kemah). My brother Shad and Trent managed to put on the spare and we headed to get a new tire.
WE CAME HOME WITH 4 NEW TIRES -- and why???? so they would match. Not because the others were worn or old, but so they would match. Trent COULD NOT drive in a car whose tires did not match. I told him, that I would notice if a rim or hubcap did not match but that never -- NEVER -- once in my life would I ever notice the actual tire, the black part not matching. (and yes, I would have bought 2 tires so that the 2 front tires would be the same -- so that the wear would be even and not cause the alignment to be all screwy) but 4 tires was a bit much for me -- (and also a bit much more money!)
But that is just how we are . . . Jamie is not at all in the minute details -- Trent lives in the details. And if the saying is "God is in the details ". . . well then Trent is well on his way to meeting him!
So fast forward to 2009. Trent has been needing new dress pants for work . . . for some time. He has been shopping and shopping and shopping -- but none of them are right.
My perspective is this -- THEY ARE PANTS! How hard can it be? They all look the same. They are darkish or grayish and they either have cuffs or they don't and they are either pleated or not and they all end up looking pretty much the same so it should not be so hard to find pants.
But Trent is on a mission. See, he found the perfect, PERFECT pants/trouser/slacks/dress pants/whatever you call them two years ago at Macy's. He loves them. They are the perfect cut for his tastes, they are superfine gabardine wool, they are lined to the knees, the pockets are black, there is a notch in the back, they have pleats and a cuff and HE LOVES THEM. And no matter where he looks he cannot find them, nor can he find anything that compares. So he shops and shops and comes home frustrated.
I have been frustrated that he can't find these pants because I don't want to hear about it anymore and I don't want to go shopping with him for pants anymore. I started asking, "Are you sure they still make them? ("Well, no I am not sure) Did you look on ebay? ("I am not buying these on ebay!) Did you look up the label and see if they are even still in business?
And then my phone rang last Thursday. It was Trent. He was at work. He had been stewing about this pants thing and finally called the designers offices. He found out where they are being sold. (The closest place to CT was in Atlanta). He called there and ordered his pants over the phone. They arrived yesterday. I don't know if I have ever seen him so happy. As he tried each pair on he was lauding all their merits, their comfort. . . And I think it is the HUNTER in him (and in every man)-- It is like he finally caught Moby dick, finally shot the elusive buck. He was happy because he tracked those pants all over the country and finally they were no match for his skills.
And I think they look like pants.