Saturday, June 02, 2007

Hooray (and Boo) For Objects!

Today I noticed that my toaster has a "toast cancel" button on it. Of course, this is also the toaster with a miniature egg pan attached to it, which my Mom gave me as a sort-of-joke gift. Can't you just jiggle the little toaster lever if you want to cancel your toasting? And if they must have a button for that, shouldn't they go all out and make it big and red and put the word "ABORT" on it in really big letters?

It's kind of nifty that sneakers have evolved into a fertile art form of their own, but it does bother me when that starts to dominate ordinary shoe stores. I am a boring white person, and I require boring-ass white-person sneakers. Every six months or so, when my shoes are no longer protecting my feet all that well from the elements, I like to be able to run out quickly, buy a pair of sneakers that fit comfortably and transmit nothing about my personality. This has become increasingly difficult. After giving up at the usual local place, I went to a fucking Finish Line in the mall and saw a pair that looked like this, made with what felt like a layer of protective, grandma-couch plastic. Easy to clean. Probably a spiffy option for a day shooting vomit-fetish porn--why sacrifice style? Not good for me, though. But here's my real proof that this has gone too far: It's taken over the New Balances. New Balance is, as far as I'm concerned, the sneaker for boring white males. We (I) need you, New Balance, and you fucking know it, so why did the stylish blog Flytip credit you in 2005 with "releasing some fly shit these days"? Luckily, there were still some boring-ass white-and-grey selections hidden amid this colorful shitstorm, and I shall continue to draw as little attention as possible to my feet. Because feet just aren't much to look at, no matter how you wrap 'em up. If the pickings are this iffy next time around, I'll just patch up this pair with some aborted toast.