I’ve been looking into new shoes. Actually, I’ll go off on a tangent to explain that weird first sentence. See, I pre-shop everything. I don’t impulse buy any clothing. And rarely anything else. Except food. And even then. Anyway, I shop online; I go to the store and look at it; then I go home and think about it for a while. If after all that I still want whatever the item is, then I go out and buy it and come directly home. I don’t do any more shopping. This works fine during the first week of September but it gets to be a hassle during, say, Christmas time.

I’ve been pondering new shoes for weeks. I was pretty set on some Keds slip-ons. For many reasons. One, they weren’t Vans. Two, Johnny Ramone wore Keds. Three, they’re rad.

My brother had some white Vans slip-ons at the beach and as far as I was concerned the Keds kicked their ass all up and down. But I could only order them online. So I waited. And I checked out some Vans. I didn’t like the white ones. I found a couple of zany patterns that I thought were all right. I tried some on. They didn’t feel right. And most importantly, I remembered that I’d owned one pair of Vans in my life and lost interest in them almost immediately. So I waited. (FYI, shoe store clerks are so not used to you trying on shoes and then saying, “Nah, I’m not going to get anything.”)

Anyway, Wednesday night I was cajoled into going to Off Broadway shoe warehouse. I pointed out some shoes to my friend who said I should try them on. I did and they were totally comfortable. And they looked good on my feet. And more importantly, they were me. They fit my character. I bought them. And as I got in the car, I realized, I’m a Converse man. Always have been. Always will be. I won’t fight it anymore.