Life Like A Pair of Chucks? Not Quite.

I laced up my hi-top Chucks yesterday. I can hardly remember when I last wore them. I brought them for a 80s theme party that E. and I were invited to by my ex-boss back in 2006. I was totally decked out in 80s regalia right down to the tight-fitting jeans, sleeveless T-shirt, this wig......And, of course, the Chucks. It's embarrassing to dress like an Ozzie Osbourne caricature, but I had fun.

I let the Chucks just sit there since the party, occasionally moving them from one side of my closet to the other, yet that didn't stop the dust from collecting on the black canvas surface. I'd been meaning to wear them for so long, but I just didn't. Yesterday, I finally said, "what the fuck" and laced them up.

Not a good idea.

For starters, they were a pain in the ass to get on. Unlike hi-top leather sneakers or a regular pair of shoes, where you can slide into them on hands free, putting on chucks takes effort. You have to deal with the floppy canvas surface and then lace 'em up tight to support your ankles. Taking them off is no easy effort either. Where leather sneakers and shoes simply slide off, chucks have to be unlaced, loosened, and pried off your feet.

They felt comfortable at first and very light on my feet. But as E. and I worked on cleaning out our yard and front lawn of last winter's debris, it became increasingly apparent that these shoes are not made for that kind of work. We spent almost the entire afternoon yesterday in 55 degree weather raking and burning up branches, twigs, dead grass, and so many acorn shells, I was amazed there weren't any squirrels laying out on our property enjoying a food coma. I swear I felt every fucking pebble and acorn through my soles as if I were walking barefoot. And there were millions of them.

The brilliant ideas still poured on. Because it was a beautiful afternoon, I took Chester to a nearby dog run, so he can socialize with other dogs. Of course, I was still wearing the chucks and the gravelly, shit-laden surface of the run made my back yard seem like I was walking on smooth pavement. Do I need to mention that Chester hated the dog run? He did. For a dog that loves to bark and snarl at other dogs while he's on a leash, I could not believe how much of a wuss he was off it. Or maybe he's just a loner? I digress.

Despite the discomfort, I drove home in them, gravel and shit notwithstanding. And that's where they stayed for the rest of the night. They just stopped bothering me.

I'm not really sure what connection there is between my wearing a pair of Chucks and to life in general. On the one hand, this choice is one of thousands I've made in life that didn't work out as I had intended. When I put them on in the morning, I liked the idea. The Chucks looked cool. When I took them off at night, my feet were hurting and I was saying never again.

On the other, all of life's decisions don't carry equal weight. There are some where the wrong choice can lead to a spectacular fuck up and years and years of regret. That wasn't the case here. After the Chucks were off and placed back in the closet I was thinking that there are worse things I could do....

Like wear that wig again in public.