Are those my shoes?

 Hey Doc remember those shoes I wanted so badly in Italy. If only I had the $1200USD. These were a cool pair of shoes.  If they had of been my size and I’d have tried them on I think the cool feeling would have entered my heart and headed straight for my credit card.  I would be the coolest guy on Talbot Street here in Aylmer the cultural capital of East Elgin County.  Make that the agricultural capital. Well I’d certainly be the talk of the town.

I need to tell the story from my book entitled “Are those my shoes?”. I got contacted yesterday by a teacher at the old high school 200 kilometers away that I taught at some 35 years ago. They are doing an Empty Bowls fund raiser. A very good cause along with a thousand other equalling worthy causes I could give to.  Only 25 bowls!

The story goes:

I am buying a pair of Birkenstocks at my local shoe store. The owner is serving me and a young woman walks in and asks if he would like to donate to “yet another worthy cause”. The owner looked down at her feet and simply asked “Are those my shoes?” He knew full well they weren’t and she blushed and said “No, they are not!”. He said “I always give generously to those that wear my shoes!”

Why is that we are artists always get asked to give? Let’s say 25 bowls @$ 30 each that’s a mere donation $650. Go next door and ask your neighbours to give you a cash donation of $650.

If I’m sounding cheap, I’m not. I give generously to those that wear my shoes. Actually I do more than that- forest fires in BC and now take your pick of some of the devastation in the south of the US, the Caribbean, the humanitarian crisis in Puerto Rico. My dad and uncle were orphaned and helped by the Salvation Army so Christmas always has me giving to the Sally Ann money pots. I always find change in my pockets for the homeless.

When you donate your pots you are donating money. I think we that make the least perhaps give the most and most often don’t get invited for a bowl of soup or to the gala fundraiser our work is being highlighted in.  Man, I would look cool at the gala in those shoes. One of life’s regrets is leaving them behind in Italy. 50 bowls and they could have been mine.  As I write this and think of all those people whose lives have been shattered I think I may be embarrassed to sport those shoes outside of The Cactus Lounge. Another time, perhaps!