12.03.2013
an armed man now
...Thoreau's Journal: 03-Dec-1856
Mizzles and rains all day, making sloshy walking which sends us all to the shoemaker’s. Bought me a pair of cowhide boots, to be prepared for winter walks. The shoemaker praised them because they were made a year ago. I feel like an armed man now. The man who has bought his boots feels like him who has got in his winter’s wood. There they stand beside me in the chamber, expectant, dreaming of far woods and wood-paths, of frost-bound or sloshy roads, of being bound with skate-traps and clogged with ice-dust.
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3 comments:
My best boots were made for war. The other boots I own don't complain, though I do cherish them in equal measure.
The pac boots, though probably made with peaceful intent, perhaps no more negative thought inherent in their manufacture than some grousing about wages or working condition's or a maybe a factory girls domestic argument the night before, or possibly the nagging guilt of love lost for folly or a hundred other possible niggling resentments swirling around their stitching as they lay on some last helpless as a newborn, they are my oldest friends amongst all my footwear, worn to a fine patina, haggard yet sturdy, time and abuse readily apparent in viewing them, though bearing a certain loyalty and nobility for lasting so long, in so many cold and aggressive seasons barely cared for yet appreciated none the less, my favorite, most essential boots, they who would save my life if neccessary, without a second thought for their own existence,
I shit you not.
Never thought of it that way...
Every winter I wish my teenage-boys finally would be willing to wear boots. Even now as we face -10 degrees centigrade: Nothing. All boy here in Colgone wear SNEAKERS......
i think all men have bought a pair of boots we are proud of, mine were made by the inuit, they were my best boots and they bragged for themselves, if asked i was more then willing to talk about them!.
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