Before Krystle and I were married there were these shoes; Toms.
They looked so comfortable and you could wear them without socks and some would say, "Without taste too."
But they were Man shoes. I could imagine smoking a pipe, wearing a sophisticated black robe and wearing Toms out to the front porch where I would pickup the morning paper to read before starting my day.
I was so excited when I was able to purchase them and they arrived with a small flag that I could wave proudly. (The flag was about the size of a piece of paper so I could use it on a tree-fort or clubhouse)
Anyway, that's besides the story. I unwrapped the package and beheld the MIGHTY BURLAP!
They were beautiful. The burlap so clean, the smells so rubbery with a hint of leather from the inner sole.
THEY WERE MINE, ALL MINE.
I wore them to parties, to family outings, I was tempted to buy black ones and wear them to my wedding.
I wore them in Denver on our honeymoon, I wore them to Idaho to the Bassett Reunion, I wore them everywhere.
Until that dreadful day a few days ago.
My loving wife told me they smelled FOUL. And when they smelled FOUL, I smelled FOUL! I was crushed, my faithful bachelor friend was letting himself go and dragging me down with him. I thought about counseling, I thought about Deseret Industries but I couldn't see someone else with my stinky TOMS.
Being Thursday....Garbage day I didn't not want to see my friend rot in his filth for any longer. I tearfully tossed my Toms into the trash and took him on one last stroll to the curb.
So Long TOMS, my Burlap Buddy.
