These are my boots.
With these green monsters I can wear my sneakers inside the rubber exterior without fear of getting wet. In them I am a Clydesdale. While others tip-toe around slushy puddles I slosh straight through. While others desperately look for footprints that have already been made, I make my own like King Winceslas of old.
But people stare.
In another time their stare might have been deemed a gesture of awe or reverence as they approached, offering up their soggy shoes as an effigy to me, the patron saint of functional winter footwear. Alas, we live in an age of heretics.
They try to hide it but by the time they have broken the tractor-beam attraction of my boots I'm on to them. I just don't see what the big deal is.
It's not like I look like the scary old man from Home Alone who ends up being nice and hits the robbers over the head with a shovel thus saving Kevin.
It's not like I could pass for some lesser-known brother of the world famous Super Mario Brothers who unlike his brothers actually spends his time plumbing and not saving bratty princesses from King Koopa and his minions.
I am a man not a sideshow.
If you're going to stare at least pay me the respect of congratulating me for being brave enough to wear such things in this impractical, fashion-crazed world.
2 comments:
They do look like those boots from the killer in the movie I Know What You Did Last Summer! We still love you though and would never judge you for wanting to keep your hammer toes dry! Love ya Bro!
What a sign! My former preppy conscious son is already wearing the cloke of a married man. Yes, our conscious image does miraculously change when we step into the "I am now a married man and I need to change my ways and think like a married man!" Josh, just wait until the children start coming along, even more things about you will change. Congrats on the boots!! I'm sure many a old married men are envious when they see the booters. Guard them with your life!!
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