Rowdy’s Dream Blog #316: Alone in Egypt
I am alone in Egypt, riding in a cab driven by Gopardo. We are driving through a heavy snowstorm. The streets are icy and the winds are howling. We come to a stop sign and merge onto a highway with a 60 percent grade. The one-lane road climbs straight up the side of a huge, pink and orange sandstone mountain. We are soon above the storm and climbing in a line of other cars past high, billowing clouds bathed in sunset colors. I can feel we are beginning to slow down and I worry that if we slow to a stop we’ll start to slip backwards. I voice my complaint to Gopardo. We finally arrive on top in a small village. I see the Mayor and another city official fishing by the road over a cliff. They get their lines tangled together and in their struggle to get them free, they both slip off their perches and dangle in the air, clinging to their poles. Outside on firm ground, I want to go into the hotel and get a room, but looking down I see that I have bare feet. I hope that my dad was able to retrieve my stuff for me from my last hotel room. Looking down again, I see that I am now wearing my crocks. He must have been successful. I enter a small Greek restaurant and sit down at a picnic table with G and her dad. The menu, when opened, contains small packets of dates and almonds wrapped in clear plastic. I see my co-worker, M, sitting on the floor. I hand him a menu. He explains he can’t be bothered with such small orders. The owner woman emerges from the kitchen carrying a large, cloth-wrapped bundle for him containing wheels of cheese and giant rounds of bread filled with layers of butter and olives.
Raising a stink over TOMS shoes
So, I bought a pair of TOMS about three months ago, very enthused to be a supporter of the company's One for One campaign: For every pair you buy, another is given to a child in need. Pretty good deal, right? At around $55 for brand-new, high-design shoes, I thought so.
After a few days of breaking my TOMS in, I was hooked. They are the most comfortable pair of shoes I've ever had and I felt good in them. They're no high heels, but they’re cute. And the best part about them is knowing that I'm helping someone in need.
But about two months into wearing my TOMS, I started to question the love affair. They started to smell. I wasn't sure if it was my own feet or what, but it was bad. Other shoes that I've worn for a year smelled better. Carrying this kind of stank around, I didn’t feel comfortable anymore. So I decided to take a break.
My brother mentioned the other day how he stopped wearing his TOMS, too. He had the same thing happen to him—about two months into wearing the shoes, the foot funk got horrendous. He said they were starting to get sticky inside, too.
The idea of helping someone else out is great. But if they only last for a couple of months, I'm not sure if they're worth it. C'mon, Tom. If a kid's poor, the last thing he's "in need" of are stinky shoes.
Attention Horror Movie Villains!!!
Kelly Ripa wants you to break your ankles for charity! The bubbly co-host of "Live with Regis and Kelly" is hosting a run called the High-Heel-A-Thon on September 22.
Men are allowed to run too and there's no indication that people have to wear heels, but if they don't, who are the zombies/ax murders/undead going to feast on?