125.

my dad gets annoyed with me for not taking care of shoes. most of them have a life-span of a few years, and they get scuffed and stained and scratched and smelly. to him, this is carelessness, but i think shoes oughta be worn out before moving onto the next pair.

like my shoes i've become well-worn when it comes to certain features of living in the northeast, and yet, being "not from around here" never really fades. attribute it to cold winters, city life, fast-paced rat races, or just boston, but folks up here don't talk to strangers like they do where i come from. where i grew up we greeted folks, asked questions and waited for answers, waved to neighbors on their porches, smiled as we passed on the the sidewalk and said some casual niceties that seemed sincere and felt warm either way. 

i was surprised twice today when two to white-haired strangers spoke to me. the first "interrupted" me as i was seeking to achieve a sort of "focused aloneness" amidst people in a cafe. i was just settling into my first paper when the man next to me said, "I like your boots." upon looking up, startled and I'm ashamed to say, slightly annoyed that he had stolen my focus from grading, I noticed he was wearing a wide-brimmed cowboy hat. i smiled and told him i liked his hat. we both smiled. john was visiting from florida and we shook hands, connected over the south georgia/north florida border, discussed the purpose of his boston visit, and wished one another well. i got back to my work and was a little ashamed of myself for feeling annoyed. i wished i wouldn't have been awkward, and instead just been sweet and open and simple. 

then i thought damn it, i've been here too long. 

but the lords of second chances brought another man into my life at the market. as i was bagging my weekly supply of apples i heard a man say, "those are some good boots you got there." i took this second chance as an opportunity to remember how to be open and inviting. this stranger was a north carolina transplant, and after casual conversation about southern heat and northern coldness, i thanked him for starting the conversation, told him how uncommon it is for that to happen up here, and let him know i appreciated him.

my boots brought me back to something i value today that i've gotten dangerously close to losing in this disconnected life of iliving and screensharing. namely, that connecting to my community, speaking to strangers, smiling and saying something, anything, and not being afraid is worth it.

i like to think my shoes are worn out because i've worn them well, because they've supported my stumblings through this life, and today i feel like these run-down boots facilitated some good reminders of the kind of human i oughta be...the kind i was raised to be.

i know it's father's day and all, but i'm not so worried about my daddy being annoyed with me. these scuffs and scrapes and weary soles are evidence of the lessons i keep learning and forgetting, and today, thanks to some southern strangers, i was reminded of the kind of girl he and my mama taught me to be.

to coffeeshop john, to the stranger from carolina, and, of course, to my dad. 

thanks for the lessons boys.