8.4.98

    A shoe on the highway today. Not just any shoe but a dress shoe. A men's, nubuck suede, two-tone shoe. Light beige on the inside and a rich tan on the outside. I drove right over it. And then I met its mate. On the side of the road was another men's, nubuck suede, two-tone shoe. A pair!

    It's not everyday that you see such a nice pair of shoes abandoned on the road. A beat-up Converse All-Star, maybe -- or, an old greying New Balance sneaker. They've always got their laces undone, have you noticed that? I suppose that's how they get free in the first place.

    I picture a father and his teen daughter driving the pickup. She's got her feet crossed and propped up in the window. Maybe she's asleep or listening to her walkman and kicking her right foot when one half of her favorite pair of blue Keds flies off. The father laughs and says, "Sorry, guess you lost your shoe." Daughter fumes.

    Or, two guys driving down from college together with all their belongings crammed on top of and into the back of their hatchback Toyota. A little rearranging to find that Road Trip tape and a shoe comes free, clattering off the roof during a furious swing up the onramp.

    But, what about a pair of men's dress shoes? Perhaps there was a fight. Perhaps it was a domestic squabble that ended with the wife dropping one shoe and then the other out the side window. It would certainly make a point though I'm not sure what kind of one.

    Of course, the shoes could have just been a poor purchasing decision. Maybe he didn't try them on before he bought them. Maybe they were cheap and he had to buy them quickly for a job interview. Maybe they were like Victoria Secret bras.

    I used to buy Victoria Secret bras. I wouldn't dream of it now as Victoria Secret mostly makes bras to fit the "ideal woman" who has a very tiny and underdeveloped body. But the bras sure are cute and cute goes a long way with me. Anyway, I had a few that I ordered from the catalog and they were horrible. I am allergic to something in the fabric -- it feels like they soak the things in asbestos or use ceiling insulation for the stitching.

    I washed and washed the things but I could only wear them for a couple of hours before my whole chest would start aching and sensitive places would start itching. On a walk through campus one day I just couldn't take it anymore and ripped it off and threw it in the closest dumpster. A week later I was having a smoke with Sam when I screamed and ripped off another Victoria Secret bra. A little shocked, Sam said, "Hey, that's a cute bra -- can I have it?" Afterwards I went upstairs and cut the rest between the cups. You just have to do that sometimes.

    I think those shoes were uncomfortable. I picture a young guy in khakis and a blazer turning off the 405 this morning, having just thrown his shoes out the window, heading toward the beach for some impromptu surfing. Those shoes might have been his only pair of "nice" shoes. They might have been symbolic of a sell-out. How freeing it would be to throw your shoes out the window. Not these new ones I'm wearing, of course.

    The most plausible explanation might go something like this:

"Hey, Lefty! As soon as that bugger opens the door we make a break fer it, awright? We hit the open road, ya got it?"

"Sure thing, boss. We do it together."

    My clodhoppers are on lock-down tonight.