Yesterday I went to the big town about 50 miles away for an eye exam (finally healed up, trying to clear Neighbor D’s schedule for second surgery) and (most important) to buy a new battery for the Lair’s solar power system.
While there, I splurged well, it was a scheduled purchase but it felt like splurging. I bought a new pair of boots. If you saw my old boots you’d probably agree that it wasn’t a splurge.
But this morning I pulled on my brand-new boot which is still a little stiff, has actual tread on its bottom side and contiguous expanses of leather on its upper side and hasn’t absorbed four years worth of sweat, mud, and various forms of noxious animal byproducts. And it felt like I’d done something outrageously self-indulgent. I experienced a brief, powerful urge to put them back in the box and return them to the store. I felt the way a younger Joel occasionally did upon waking from a binge and wondering how many apologies he owed, and to whom.
And then I sat back and remembered: Younger Joel wouldn’t have been caught dead in Wally-World boots in the first place. So Older Joel should just get the hell over it.
But now speaking of self-indulgence, we’ve got solid overcast and I’ve not even begun to learn the strengths and weaknesses of my new batteries. So I’m turning the ‘pooter off for now.
Footwear is important, yes, but what about yer eye, dammitall? And purely out of inappropriate curiosity, does the non-flesh foot result in oddball wear and tear on its respective boot?
I just got new boots too and they sat in the box for days until I decided to keep them. I felt like I was cheating on my old boots but there wasn’t much left to them.