Sunday, October 15, 2006

These are the slimes that fry men's soles

RIP me boots, 1996-2006

I remember exactly the day I bought these boots. It was Brooklyn, January 7th, the "blizzard of '96." I was visiting from England, and whatever grad-student cheapo footwear I had at the time were wildly inappropriate for 6-foot snowdrifts. Time to buy some boots! I settled on Timberlands: though more expensive, I figured I would get some wear out of them. And that I did: they have been my faithful pedal companions from Manhattan slush to the Fens of East Anglia to Indonesian jungle to the rocks of the Basin and Range, along the way accumulating cuts, dents, and a wabi-sabi patina of machine-shop grease, mud, rust, sno-seal, sweat, and desert dust.

Sadly, they were finally done in by the toxic aftermath of the SRL show. I don't know what evil slime of gasoline, rocket fuel, hydraulic oil, and industrial solvents banned since 1973 I was walking on, but it basically dissolved the soles of my boots and I shall regretfully have to retire them.

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