Last modified: Sunday, March 4, 2007 11:32 PM EST ZUCK: For the love of pants My pants were determined to give up on me but I wouldn't let them. I'm nowhere near ready to let them go. I've had this beloved pair of pants for several years now, but you wouldn't know it. They look just as new and crisp as the day I first proudly wore them. These pants - my favorite pants for work - aren't just any old pair of trousers. They're amazingly comfortable. They fit me perfectly. They make me look good. They make me feel fantastic. Usually I put on a pair of pants and I think, "OK, pants." But these are special. I put on these pants and I think, "OK, pants!" They make me want to skip along the sidewalk and leap into the air and kiss little babies on the head. They make me want to stroll in slow-motion and lean against a fence ever so casually and make slightly suggestive greetings to all the ladies going by. But these pants that have been so loyal to me throughout the years, through all the baby-kissing and suggestive greeting-making, seem to want to find a way out. As I put them on one morning I noticed several mysterious spots along the leg. My day was ruined! My pants, dry-cleaned only of course, had to go to the cleaners. I had always taken them for periodic "check-ups" at the dry cleaners (though I typically had to lie about where we were going or I'd never get them into the car), but this unscheduled trip made me a bit weepy. I hadn't properly prepared myself to part with them, however temporarily. I had no idea where the stains had come from, so when Hilda the dry-cleaner asked me what they were I took my best guess and ran for the door before she could catch the tears forming in my eyes. The next day I bounded in to claim my pants. To my horror, Hilda took my hand, gave me a sympathetic look and said, "I'm sorry, we couldn't get the stains out. I don't think your pants are going to make it." I screamed and fainted and made a suggestive greeting to a little baby. When I came to, I begged Hilda to give it one more try. "Well," she said, "There is one procedure I could do - but it's dangerous." "Please," I begged, "Try anything!" For the next 20 minutes I paced the waiting room while Hilda worked her magic. When she emerged, pants in hand, I knew it was good news. "You'll need to be gentle for the next few days," she told me, "but I expect they'll make a full recovery." I was so thrilled to have my pants back! Right there in front of the other customers I stripped off my jeans, donned my favorite pants, and slow-motion strutted out the door. At that wonderful moment all was right in the world - the sun was shining, Hilda had come through for me, and I'd resolved to stop wiping my nose on my pants. BILL ZUCK has already broken his resolution. You can reach him at wcz78@yahoo.com.