My son told me he would like to live in a safer world. My editor-in-chief told me she would like me to write something about shoes. Holy shit Batman, I thought, let’s multi-task the shit out of those unreasonable demands.
Imagine John Lennon set the bar lower for all of us. Imagine he made fewer and simpler demands regarding peace. I love that song as much as the next Beatles fan, but I can’t keep track of all the things Lennon wanted me to imagine. I’ve never had a good memory, and now I’m middle-aged, so whatever memory I had left is with my keys.
Unlike Lennon, I’m making one demand for you to imagine. Imagine trading in our guns for shoes. How much safer would the world be if our greatest conundrum was what shoe deodorizer to choose so we didn't offend each other and take up arms again.
Finding a good shoe deodorizer is complicated. There’s the ooh la la natural deodorizer that’s made out of volcanic ash wrapped in hemp. But then ya gotta worry about the teens smoking it.
There are the repurposed deodorizers composed of ground-up red hats and refined oil spills, but when they get worn out, you have to set’m on fire with alcohol, and that’s bad for the ozone.
Finally, there are the toxic but most effective shoe deodorizers made of blowfish flatulence. The problem with those is if you have a blister that pops, you’ll be dead in an hour.
My son said yesterday, “Why can’t all the countries just agree not to fight?” Good idea, I said, but not enough people are willing to part with their shoes.
It’s not the gun people I’m concerned about. This is America. Nobody gives a flip flop about guns ’round here. We are a peaceful people who only want to make parking garages out of the land we pilfered.
We, Americans, would trade all our guns in for another opportunity to steal pristine real estate and ravage natives. Unfortunately, we overplayed that hand, and there’s no element of surprise. Vietnam 2.0 if ya know what I’m saying.
It’s the shoe people I’m most worried about. They’re totally out of control. Especially the ones who need a matching clutch to carry their dog around in. They’re Stephen King-grade monsters. They won’t agree to throw their shoes at enemies even it means world peace.
I had a friend whose daughter threw a shoe into a tree once. She wasn’t ready to leave the birthday party, so she freaked out, removed her shoe, and tossed it in the air. Guests were so enraged at the misuse of her shoe that they threw the girl into the bouncy house, let out the air, and sent her into the nearest cumulus.
Eventually, when she landed, she was sent to juvie. Juvie was so appalled by her disregard for her shoe that they sent her to a small German village to spend the remainder of her life whittling wooden clogs.
So, I’m not optimistic about shoes replacing guns. It pains me, but I don’t know if I’d be able to throw my Hoka One Ones at anyone to save the world. My arches have never felt more supported, and they cost me a fortune. I can’t imagine doing that.