shoes, absurdity and Macy's

yesterday my yin and i spent five hours in a mall, which is only slightly less painful to me than having teeth drilled. most of this time was spent in Macy's, where we surveyed a bevy of toasters, vacuums, knives and mixers in an attempt to get a little clearer on what items to place on our wedding registry. we both find the concept of a registry somewhat odd, and my yin asked, "i wonder how it started?"

"with the rise of the petite bourgeoisie and breakdown of communities,"
i responded groundlessly. but this is beside the point.

the point is that my head was spinning in less than an hour. the scanner gun was malfunctioning, the department store network was down, and i was completely useless when it came to making decisions regarding the virtues of one coffee maker over another. my yin, ever-tuned in to the subtle fluctuations my mental health, noticed this and suggested we take a food break. this was a wise decision.

we found a vegetarian falafel stand in the food court, and i quickly devoured a half pita with sweet potato fries. the food helped to ground me, and once more we entered unto the breach:

do not be fooled by this innocuous floor plan

eventually we wandered back to Macy's: the scanner worked, the computer system was running, and my yin and i had been in the mall for four hours – the week before Christmas – without buying anything other than lunch ($13.79 for two). after finishing the task at hand, we walked downstairs to the shoe department, looking for a pair of comfortable, attractive sandals that might complement my yin's stunning wedding dress.

it was there that i started to wonder at the wealth of this nation, which is manifested nowhere so clearly as in the shoe department of a department store. we have shoes to make walking easier:

my beloved Merrel

and shoes to make walking more difficult:

the baffling FitFlop

we even have shoes that consider walking ontologically insufficient, and attempt to make the world a better place:

the intriguing TOMS

we have high heels and flats and and pumps and tennis shoes and sneakers and galoshes and basketball shoes and cleats and skate shoes and snow shoes and cross trainers and sandals and flip flops and Roman sandals and boots and work boots and hiking boots. every type has umpteen brands, and some brands make their own type, like Lugz and Chucks and Jordans and Boks. we even have walking shoes and running shoes and jogging shoes – just in case your feet can tell the difference.

how many people across the world are shoeless? how many hundreds of millions of people consider shoes a luxury? how many billions of people stretch a single pair for years on end? how many pair do i have boxed up, unworn, in the closet?

these are the questions that came flooding in yesterday afternoon, as i sat surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of different styles and colors and shapes and purposes of shoes. it gave me pause, and i didn't sleep well last night. maybe these things are unrelated... but maybe not.