boots | reverse threading

in the cutest of mispronunciations, my son, when he was little, called the mirror in the car the “réview” mirror. to this day, i still hear him saying it and it always makes me smile. it was an existential wisdom and so i credit him with the thoughtfulness it brings. the réview mirror…showing that which is behind us.

in the middle of the night we ate a banana and talked about huckapoo shirts. we described specific clothing pieces…my little-house-on-the-prairie dress, his brown western shirt with quilting on the chest, my skinniest stretchy gold metal belts, his blue denim shirts, my gauchos, his cords, my prom gowns, his purple suspenders, our earth shoes. i was in the mecca of discos; he was in the foothills. but those huckapoo shirts…a both-and…we could vividly remember the prints, the colors, the polyester, the fit, the collars. we laughed and it kept us up for a couple hours, but it was a weekend night and all was well. we could sleep after. we moved on by decades…to dockers and button-downs (but never short-sleeved) and aigner pumps with suits and scarves. i talked about this light blue dress – it was a splurge and i still remember it cost $35. i wore it “for good” and it had puffy juliet sleeves and a tiny belt at the waistline. we kept going, through colors and fabrics, eventually arriving at black and jeans and boots, twinsies. the réview mirror had served our wakefulness well. had we followed my poppo’s advice – “build a barn out back and put it all out there because it will all come back” – we could visit and touch our huckapoos and chukka boots and bell-bottoms and moccasins-with-no-soles and pleated high-waisted jeans-with-suspenders. no doubt my current going-through of all the drawers and closets and bins in the house (ala marie kondo) will produce an item or two with hysterical shock-value.

the réview mirror of life and decisions and paths taken is not as hilarious. it is a roiling sea of emotions, up, down, up down. i imagine marie saying “thank it. appreciate its value. discard or donate it.” it – regardless of what “it” is, is in the rearview mirror, the sideview mirror, miles back on the highway where nothing we can do will change its appearance, its happening, its consequences. it just was. and it informed the next. though it may not be what we would have decided now, were we to be faced with the same set of circumstances, we have no going-back, no takebacks, no do-overs. we can only stand in grace alongside all the others standing in grace and move forward.

really…i’m not sure i would have ever worn the periwinkle-blue-black-polkadots-tiny-capped-ruffle-sleeve-skinny-self-belt-flounce-bottom-dress were i to do it again.

n’importe quoi. whatever.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

these old boots. save for the laces, which were definitely in-beaky’s-book-worth-saving, these boots are now moving on. looking at them, side by side on the deck, i could hear my big brother playing the guitar and singing, “these boots were made for walking, and that’s just what i’ll do…”

we’ve run out of everest movies to watch. we have seen all the hollywood movies, all the national geographic movies, all the north face and eddie bauer movies and the rolex movies. we have watched youtubes and imax-without-the-max-part. we have sat through short home videos and a two hour and three minute go-pro video with no narration and hardly any talking. we’ve watched k2 and annapurna and aconcagua and denali. we have run out.

we have now moved on to the appalachian and pacific crest trails. these boots – neither pair – were not made for that walking. we can both vouch for it.

these boots were different. they were more life-boots. mine took me through well over a decade of travel, well over a decade of wholesale and retail shows, well over a decade of schlepping, lugging, driving very long distances, more schlepping and lugging. well over a decade of practice on wooden stages while lighting and sound engineers ran cues. well over a decade of flatbed trailers. well over a decade of dreaming and sweating, well over a decade of highs and lows.

i’ve been attached to them. the soles have separated from the leather uppers and wearing them would be like wearing closed flip flops, but heavy-heavy and flopping around, looking to catch on something and throw me headfirst into the ground.

i’ve been attached to them. in some way they became part of my uniform, the same way that the black zip-up sweatshirt that no longer has cuffs or a working zipper was. i’m attached to that too. somehow, it felt like those kept me safe, kept me going, and brought me back home. i suspect it wasn’t the boots or the sweatshirt hoodie.

so i’m saving the laces. they can be used in a different pair of boots.

and i’m wondering: maybe we should fill these old boots up with dirt and plant some basil.

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: boots

the réview mirror. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

these old boots. [two artists tuesday]

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