So, what's with me and old shoes, doctor? I have always had the hardest time throwing away old shoes and I am not sure why. These aren’t Johnston and Murphy dress shoes that can be resoled as many times as necessary in your life. These are casual shoes used mostly for walking; even sneakers. This problem came to a head a couple days ago.
The other night I watched an episode of the television show, “Hoarders.” If you have not seen this show, it concerns people who cannot part with stuff. Stuff and things enter their homes and nothing leaves. Not even the wrappers or bad food leave. Eventually moving about is all but impossible and facing condemnation, health problems or a threatened spousal separation, the residents are forced to solicit the help of a therapist and a “professional-throweroutter.” I should add that these poor folks are now considered mentally ill, thus the therapist. The stuff has taken over their lives and they cannot even move about their homes. They have the most ungodly floor to ceiling pits of junk that you would ever wish to see. I immediately thought of the old “Sanford and Son” television series from the ’70’s where Fred G. Sanford and his son Lamont lived in a junk yard. Well, the situations on this show are similar but, this isn’t funny. As well, we should consider ourselves lucky that smell-a-vision has yet to be invented.
While I have held onto things for much longer than I probably should have in the pass, I don’t consider myself a hoarder. However, shoes are a different story. I can’t seem to part with them. After watching the show I got up to get a glass of water and tripped over shoes in my bedroom. When I came back with the water I sat and looked about me. At any point in time I have at least a dozen pairs of shoes and boots that are in terrific shape and at least a half dozen pairs of shoes and boots that should have been tossed a year ago. I pulled stuff from under the bed, out of the closet and made a pile of every piece of footwear I own. There was a two to one ratio of great footwear and garbage footwear. I sorted the pile leaving only the garbage footwear. It was hard. I fondled a pair of Sperry Topsiders whose right heels were so worn that it appeared to have at least an inch missing from the outer edge. I finally put them in a trash bag and immediately removed them to consider again if I was making the correct choice. I know, I know, this is odd to me too. It wasn’t as if I did not have plenty of other shoes. I don’t wear the Topsiders and haven’t for a while; in fact the insides are so ruined that they would cause great pain to wear. I took a pair of scissors and cut the leather cord that runs the side of the shoes so as not to be tempted to retrieve them again. I then thought that the cord of leather might be useful in a craft project or something so I removed it. Shaking my head I quickly put all of the garbage in a plastic bag and set it at the curb for the next morning’s trash pickup.
Where did all this old shoe saving come from? It is not as if I spent my childhood shoeless chasing critters about the “holler.” I have thought about this and can offer no explanation other than; it pains me to add to the landfills. I always try to recycle and find second and third lives for most everything. Old tuna cans become paint dishes for projects; spent sauce jars become the receptacles for spent grease; Styrofoam packing peanuts are used for drainage for newly potted plants; old towels and t-shirts become shop towels and so on. I believe this my responsible in an attempt to reduce my carbon footprint and all. Other than that explanation, who knows? I of course also acknowledge that I have yet to find any use for old shoes other than a make-shift hammer. Maybe, I’m just plain…
By some standards all this old shoe saving might seem nuts. I might even seem in need of some sort of intervention and care of a trained professional. Nah. Aren’t our neuroses what make us more interesting individuals? Other than being on occasion unsightly or perhaps a tripping hazard; who am I hurting? Besides, as I told a friend the other day, “we all have problems; some are just a bit more visible than others and few really require a group meeting.”
No comments:
Post a Comment