Crazy Socks

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Certainly the most poignant moment of this past Super Bowl occurred at the very start when President George H.W. Bush entered the field for the coin toss after being so close to death just days before. Mrs. Bush was with him and it was heartwarming to see them together at a public event and looking so well.

But did you catch the wacky socks George had on? This is nothing new; he's been wearing crazy socks for years now, going back at least to 2012. I say good for him.

It takes a real sense of humor and a lot of confidence for a man in his position to be a little outrageous in how he dresses. As long as he doesn't start wearing four-inch stilettos I don't think we have anything to worry about. Let him go nuts with his socks, the man's earned it.

My own sock drawers are crammed with more socks than I could possibly wear out in two or three lifetimes. Most of them tend to be conservative and low key, but there are plenty of the bolder styles and colors too. Polka dots, bright horizontal stripes, and whimsical designs are shoved in amongst the black, gray, blue and earth tones. I literally have socks to go with any mood. In fact I now have more socks than I actually have moods.

The socks I own take up three drawers in my bureau, and if you ask me why, I have no idea. It's not because I need a lot of socks, believe me. But there they are. It may sound like I'm hoarding socks, but why would I do that, even unconsciously? Of all the things one could hoard, why would somebody, even an idiot, hoard socks?

For a brief period I toyed with the idea that maybe in the middle of the night when I wasn't looking, my wife would sneak into the sock drawers and fill them up, just to drive me mad. But that's just plain silly. The drawers are stuffed so tight she couldn't possibly pull them open if she tried.

Rumors have it that, like rabbits, socks have a way of multiplying themselves in great numbers. But realistically I don't know how that could be since there's no way to tell a right sock from a left sock, let alone what their sexuality is.

In the good old days socks used to wear out. Why they don't wear out now is a very good question. Maybe I don't walk enough anymore, or maybe socks are made better than they used to be, although I doubt it. Nothing is made better than it used to be. On the rare occasion when I notice that the threads are a little bare at the heels or toes of a pair of socks, I'm almost in a state of euphoric bliss. At last! Yes! I can throw these away! Hoorah!

If I really wanted to, I suppose, I could empty out the drawers on the bed and pull out at least half (or more) of my current inventory of socks and simply get rid of them, holes or no holes. Somehow though, it feels wasteful to me to throw away something that isn't used up yet. It would be like spilling out milk that hasn't gone sour or throwing away good butter just because your refrigerator is getting full. Why would you do that?

I guess instead of tossing them into the garbage, I might give them to a charity. As kids, when we didn't eat our dinner we were told of the poor starving people in Europe who had no food. So I'm sure there must be poor sockless men in Europe who would be thrilled to have a pair of used chartreuse and orange monkey socks. Or maybe not. Even poor people have their pride after all.

Do you suppose President Bush ever wonders what to do with all his socks? Probably not. I would imagine a man in his position has other things on his mind.