These Shoes Were Made For Traveling

These shoes were purchased for about ten bucks five years ago at some discount store in Toronto and remain the most resilient piece of footwear I have ever owned. They have traveled with me everywhere, their first long jaunt being the Canadian Pilgrimage. These shoes have touched two oceans, hiked up mountains, tumbled into waterfalls, were nearly swept out to sea and are still stained with the red earth of P.E.I. These shoes have walked the length of the world’s longest skating rink, stood on the edge of cliffs and roamed about ancient cemeteries and ruins. They have rested by the doorways of a lover or two, mingled with boots and sandals and sneakers at various social functions. They have sat with me on lazy summer days and trudged through winter snowdrifts. These shoes have carried me home safely when drunk (thankfully home was only one floor down) and would have been with me on my mother’s wedding day if she wasn’t so particular about my foot apparel matching my tuxedo. Firmly laced, the shoes left footprints on the beaches of Vancouver. I’ve sauntered smiling in them away from bad jobs and kept me warm on a cold night huddled under a sleeping bag wondering if my tent would survive the harsh Nova Scotia storm outside. In them I’ve planted strawberries, shucked hay into a rusty pick up truck and collected dead pine branches. I’ve had them caked in goat shit. They’ve been on me while I danced with a drag queen dressed like Princess Leia during one wild night of karaoke. They’ve lightly jostled a horse forward as I road that beautiful animal through the equally beautiful hills of Cape Breton. They’ve danced and stomped to the melodies of a Celtic fiddle and have had liquids of all types spilt onto them. They’ve marched against war and planted me on street corners lobbying for environmental causes. In them I saw the king return and the Sith carry out their revenge. They have been on planes and trains and automobiles and, yeah, even a few boats. These shoes and I mediated with Buddhists and one night we gazed upwards to a sky of diamonds on black wondering if there was a purpose, a design and a reason. For the last five years these shoes have always made the first step, for good or ill, towards the unknown and in nine days they will do so once again. The first item to pack was an easy choice. Despite the urging of some family members who have had to battle the stench that emanates from this beloved duo, I will not throw them away. For the many miles walked within them they show minor wear. I will ride these babies until the soles fall off, until they disintegrate into tiny fibers and are carried off by the wind on their final journey. Before then I think they have a few more adventures left in them. Yes, these shoes were made for traveling and that’s just what they’ll do.