D

Desire

I think about desire quite a bit. I don't want to be a materialistic person, and I think for the most part I'm not, or try hard not to be, and yet I do desire a certain few things more than I wish I did. Shoes, for one. Boots in particular. Not fancy shoes or boots--most of the ones I desire veer towards the ugly/functional or athletic end of the spectrum. I have bad feet and the thrill of slipping into a comfy pair of new soft leather shoes, or a brand new pair of running shoes with their padding all plump and supportive, is addictive. I own more pairs of boots than anyone needs, and yet when I see another pair, like maybe those deadly cute embroidered Earth boots I saw, or the soft, red leather, Italian-looking ones this complete stranger had on in line at the grocery store, I covet them in the worst way. I guess my saving grace is that while I have desire I don't always act on it, because I'm also a save-a-holic with dreams of retiring before I'm 85. I've worn the same pair of Chaco sandals, for instance, almost every day between April and October for the last eight years. If you know me, you know these sandals. They don't wear out, so I can't justify replacing them in my more frugal moments even though I would just about give my right arm for a different color of Chacos at this point. It's a constant internal struggle with these diametrically opposed personality traits--desire versus frugality, treading lightly on the earth's and my own resources versus treading around in some fabulous new shoes. Photo: son in prom tux and Chuck Taylors with multi-colored shoe strings.  The boy moves through the world on his own terms.