Why is it that most of the things we find near and dear to us our usually pretty threadbare? I think we all have that favorite old pair of jeans or those shoes that won't go away despite their malodorous reputation. It would stand to reason that we would latch on to something fresh and new but yet we always turn back to our old friends.
This seems to stem from early childhood I think that most of us had the coveted "security blanket" I know I did and the day I burned it in the back yard with my father when he was burning leaves had to be my first taste of a funeral.
Right now I have on a pair of jeans that has lost pretty much all of of it luster and I am sure that my family and friends are sick of seeing me in them but they are just so much more comfortable then the new ones that I got for Christmas as a hint to get rid of the ones I am currently wearing. Each time I send them through the laundry cycle they wear out a little more. The back pockets are starting to fray away from the rest of the pants. The front is starting to show signs of wear and tear and yet they just seem to get better. Like a fine wine?
I find similar situations with a lot of my friends. Most of my friends I have known for many many years and although our lives seem to fray and parts of the relationship seem to be pulled from the main body they are still the best friends I could ask for. They all have threadbare back stories and different life experiences but they are all really good friends.
Is it strange that in other aspects of out lives we do not stand for such things? If the car starts to rust we get a new one. If the paint wears off the house we immediately freshen it up. But when it comes to our favorite pair of trousers battered is better.
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