Sometimes I come here wanting to tell you something important. Other times, what I have to say is so small and frivolous and irrelevant that I wonder if you will think me petty, or an idiot, or both. Sometimes I want to tell you something true, but can't, so I tell a little fiction instead. Other times, I want like hell to lie my ass off, but instead I wind up vomiting entire chunks of my personal life. Sometimes, brothers and sisters, my heart is filled with so much love that I want to just throw my arms around all of you and give you sloppy wet kisses on the mouth and get all naked and dance in the mud like it's 1969. And other times I want to burn every bridge I've ever built and cut the head off of this blog and tell you all to fuck off.

And today might be a day for one of those things, I'm just not sure which one. Because today, I've just come here to declare this: I'm jealous of all the people at my gym with their white, white shoes. I mean it. I don't know how they keep their shoes so clean, but they do, and I hate them for it. It's a dark kind of hate, the kind I only reserve for chipmunks and people who prefer to pull their toilet paper from the bottom. Every day I have to walk in there with my graying shoes, so joyless and devoid of life, and it makes me feel sad and alone and embarrassed. Makes me want to click-wheel over to some Neko Case.


I've tried to keep up with them. Don't think I haven't. I'll go out and get a new pair of shoes every four or five months, and each time I'll resolve to wear my older ones for the dirty tasks, like mowing the lawn, or shoveling mulch, or playing a game of "bury the shoe in the mud" (God, I love that game). But then I find myself outside in my brand new shoes kicking a soccer ball with Honey after a fresh rain, and it's all over—those suckers are destined for a life of shame and ignominy as I trudge over to a stretch mat and lie down next to some woman who looks like she just picked her shoes up from the dry-cleaners. And I know she's sitting there judging me, wondering why the hell I don't buy a new pair of shoes already, not realizing I just bought them last week.

Oh, I feel your judgement, and let me tell you, it stings. And so this is just to say I'm not going to let it bother me anymore. You understand? This is who I am, dammit. I'm a guy who wears gray, dirty gym shoes in public. And though you might not believe it, I am human. If you prick me, I assure you, I do bleed. So get off your high horse and show me some love already.





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