February 2, 2016

The Phantom Menace

I've got this pair of boots that I'm quite fond of. They are a quality make, and originally priced at $175. That price point is a little rich for my blood, so I got them on sale for about half that.

Then, about six months of delightfully walking around in my fantastic boots, the stinkin' heel came off the left one. As a result, I sounded like a tap-dancing fool everytime I'd walk on pavement or ceramic floors.  What made it even more embarrasing was the fact that it was only the one boot that made the noise. And, the heel missing meant that I was, in effect, an inch or so shorter on the left side which over time certainly would have made me a Quasi Modo of some sort. 

After some degree of procrastination, I decided that I should have the heel repaired. Of course, the decision to have it repaired and actually repairing it are two different things. So, two months later, after walking around as a lopsided clickety clackin' motherfucker, I finally got it fixed. But now, everytime I put on my boots and walk around, in my mind I still sort of feel like I'm missing that heel and sometimes over compensate for it when walking. It's sort of like the reverse of when a guy has gotten his arm cut off. For years he still feels like it's there, and this phenomenon is often referred to as having a phantom arm.

So what I'm saying is that if you've had a limb cut off, I know exactly how you feel.


  1. I once had a shoe with a hole in it near the baby toe. I had that shoe for a long time. Then one day I got new shoes. I immediately missed the "toe freedom" I had with the old hobo shoe. It was aggravating and I almost divorced my wife over it. So the lesson here is:
    To experience true comfort, be a hobo.

  2. Hobo comfort is a thing. I was walking along Richmond St downtown around 8pm last week, and these two sketchy dudes had a wonderful set up. They were hunkerin' down for the night in what looked like a compact double bed made from cardboard boxes. It even had sides and looked a little like one of those soap box cars you'd make as a kid. As i walked by I noticed they had a shitload of food too. They were both eating piping hot bowls of beef stew, and had an assortment of fruit, sandwiches, juice and the like. What's more, they were both sitting up wrapped comfortably and their conversation was upbeat and bouncy. Shit was (relatively) good for these two guys, so I now know that if I ever do become a hobo, then shit will be good.