Moving, in any capacity, is probably among my top five most dreaded tasks. Having done so four times in the past five years -- eight if you include seasonal relocation consisting of all but furniture -- I've grown to strongly dislike "stuff." My desk consists of some pens in a holder, my printer/copier/fax/scanner, my in-progress book, a lamp, and various designs of "thank-you" cards. I'm a firm believer that the minimalist theory evolved through annual-movers and developed as a result of the ease with which they move.
Moving across the country in a small SUV, which looks something like this,
not withstanding, I've recently grown even more intensely hateful towards objects that serve no practical function. In the course of sorting through some of my more useless belongings, I came across a few that got me thinking; as a self-proclaimed realist that is no stranger to rational thought, I've often observed trends from a distance, allowing myself to fall victim only to those carefully-chosen few that either a) contribute to humanity in a way representative of my agenda, b) come with a minimal or short-term effect, or c) serve some strategic purpose beneficial to my lifestyle. Nike Shox fall into neither "a" nor "b," and "c" would be arguable only when considering that they cover your feet when your run.
These are the aforementioned Nike Shox, my first of five pairs, that I absolutely had to have -- a borderline life or death situation. Surprised that they made it through the four [or eight] moves, I discovered them in a box of college "crap" this afternoon. As they obviously serve no function today, it's almost appalling to think of the sheer obsession Nike was able to create with the lack of supply to meet the demand for a pair of shoes merely boasting four non-functional, molded, spring-like cushions on the heel. Despite being knowledgeable about the shoe's deficiencies -- that the plastic "shox" were poor quality, the original arch was arguably off-set due to the incline of the molded heel, etc. -- I spent many of the weeks in my first quarter at The Ohio State University searching for a red and grey version of the shoe, to match my school colors, of course. Back then, personalization was still a huge deal and Nike had capitalized on it in every way possible: my softball cleats were my school colors with my last name and my jersey number embroidered into them. The Shox line was exactly what Nike needed to redeem itself at a time when Adidas and Puma seriously threatened its livelihood.Even after searching for so long, both physically and electronically, the only way I was able to get the shoes was to order them on Ebay from a seller in China that charged me three times retail [a bargain as far as I was concerned - at the time] AND it took 2-3 weeks and $50 for shipping.
Maybe it's nothing more than maturity and increasing financial responsibility, but I'm hoping that my Shox serve as a reminder of the things I don't need (and don't want to include in my next move), and of corporate America's power over those willing to succumb...
