For as long as I have remembered I've been wearing Kelly green low top Chuck Taylors with blue laces. At this point, I've gone through dozens, but no matter how many I go through, I find myself completely sentimentally attached to each pair. The more worn, the more nostalgic...being that I love to travel, all my sneakers have a history, have walked in amazing places all over the world. Throwing them into the garbage seems too callous, but saving them is impractical. What to do? What to do?
Having grown up in the 70s in NYC, one of the images that stand out were the sneakers thrown up on wires. I never really knew the whole story why. I always assumed it was some kid bullied, had his sneakers stolen and thrown up high where it would be impossible for him to get and ensuring him a beat down from his parents. Although the reasons are infinite and no doubt every hood had their own rules...either or, I never got my sneakers thrown up anywhere and for once I would like to know why they are there.
So, late night I went and tried to throw my sneakers up on the wire nearest my apartment. It was hard as hell. I just couldn't get them high enough at any time... but thankfully there is always a drunken stranger prattling my area that is up for a challenge. After wrangling one in, who skeptically thought it would be simple, after many tries and many minutes later, dripping sweat and too many near misses, the sneakers then flew up and as if in slow motion, roped around the wire. A sight too magical to express. It ended with us jumping up and down, hugging like it were the end of a revolution. Even all the passerbyers (including sanitation workers in their truck) sucked into the event cheered — making about 10 people now know how those sneakers wound up there, but yet I'm the only one that knows why.
Special thanks to Morgan for making this happen! Strangers in the night!
