Thursday, August 15, 2013

The shelf life of scam jerky, it turns out, is substantially shorter than real jerky, and the bitter taste of deception has been all but forgotten. It only took a month for me to get back on the horse, with dual bets placed on a horror webcomic project and special socks. They’re special because they’re made out of carbonized coffee, recycled polyester, and plastic.

Garbage, in other words, but what made me pull the trigger was the idea of wicking socks, and the unique feeling they’d afford. It’s the prospect of altering a daily sensation that’s so alluring. I couldn’t begin to explain to you how polyester is recycled, though I imagine it calls for trawling the charred remains of a ’70s disco club. I just want what rolls off the production line.

Internet meat and socks aside, I do honor the old ways and wander into brick-and-mortar locations occasionally. Most recently, I’ve been seeking to update my shorts-related wardrobe, since tennis has endowed my limbs with a hue slightly darker than off-white. I’ve been specifically searching for loafers to replace some ancient Jesus sandals I procured in Chicago. But shoes these days? They feel light and cheap, almost hollow. Makes a man long for an earlier time, when footwear boasted good, honest construction with real rubber and rich Corinthian leather.