The Shoe Contest

I made the mistake of looking into one of the million jillion blog contests after a blogger I read won an honorable mention for her fine piece on libraries. Bragging rights and some nice small giftee the prize. Rejection is laid on gently. No nasty emails saying "You are a loser. You should take some writing classes, or maybe learn how to spell first, then go to class". There is nothing really on the line. For fun stuff. The only disappointment, not winning or scoring that almost as good, "Honorable Mention".

Scribbit is the name of the blog sponsoring the contest. Every month a new topic is picked. Bloggers wishing to compete send in their entry based on said topic. A guest judge/judges is/are tasked with weeding out the losers from the winners.

In a moment of grandiose madness, I figured I might like to throw my hat into this ring. Yeah, for moment I was feeling cocky and actually contacted Michelle over to Scribbit for all the pertinent info and requirements to compete.

So now I know. So now I have kinda, sorta agreed to fire off an entry the first week of May. The subject is "Shoes". Is that a chill I feel coming on inside those work boots?

I actually wrote a couple or so posts about shoes. I tracked them down. Re-read and found both lacking. Re- wrote one and am almost pleased. But with a subject or jumping off point as promising as "Shoes", I am sure I can come up with new ways to celebrate this most basic, yet stylish piece of attire we humans put on our feet everyday.

Besides the obvious physical, protective aspects of shoes that apply to all of us who wear them, shoes then become different things to different folks. My daughter never met a shoe she did not like. Al least that's the impression I get when I see the inside of her closet. A large quiver of shoes makes her feel warm and fuzzy. My wife looks to the functional mostly. Comfort with nice lines usually makes her day. She will actually throw shoes out once they wear out.

Me, well I find shoes to be a necessary evil. Another one of those must haves whether I want them or not things. As a child I would often conveniently "lose" one shoe on the way to school or on the way home. I lived to run barefoot. This yearning sits deep inside me to this day. I often work down to the bike shop with dogs "au natural". The occasional staple or cable end impalement, a small price to pay for such wonderful personal freedom.

Don't get me wrong. I have learned to appreciate the value of and the pleasure of placing my feet into a well made pair of comfortable shoes or sneaks. Shoes have saved me much pain and saved more than once my 10 piggie herd from potential seperation. I have also paid a stiff price for not wearing them when common sense screamed I should.

In the summer of 1971 I took way too much acid and walked around all night barefoot. Stepped on a coke bottle bottom and drove it through my foot. Spent most of that trip down at the emergency room bleeding on the waiting room floor and watching nurse faces melt or look all rubbery like they had just been molded out of silly putty. I appreciated shoes that night. Just a tad late. The upside was that was my first time getting stiches while high on LSD. I watched with rapt fascination as each stich was laid. No pain, but each time the doc drove the needle in, rushes swept over me.

I wonder if they ever figured out I was high?

Final Notes, then good night

This post written under the influence of Beck on the ear phones and the stench of old works boots wafting up from under the desk.

Another post started with a plan that soon went AWOL. Sometimes I think I know where I want to go, but where I end up is nowhere close to where I figured I would be.