©2011 gary garbett.com |
doc marten
day before my yesterday /
©2011 gary garbett.com |
I often wonder.
standard issue /
c is for cocoa /
©2011 gary garbett.com |
We thought he was black, but after holding him under in the bright sunlight, his fur was actually the color of dark, rich cocoa. He's the smallest in our home, takes charge in everything, and answers to Sammy C.
falling in love on the cheap /
©2011 gary garbett.com |
I decided to venture out on a thrift store Doc Marten mission yesterday. I've been skunked for nearly 3 years, but with a few minutes to spare before my dental appointment, I needed to see what I could do to save any rejected soles. Thrift stores have such a character about them. Much like my friends, each one seems to be so different, all with their own brand of quirkiness, faults, and zest. I visited one of my faves. As par for the course, for quite a long time now... zilch. Nothing.
Driving west, I knew I had less than 10 minutes to spare and decided to make a quick stop by one more shop. I parked the truck and hurriedly dashed in. As I walked halfway to the back of the store where all of the men's stuff is stashed, I began hearing angels sing just before seeing it in the distance. Yellow. Soled. Stitching.
A pair of 8053 Brown Harvest Oxford Docs where just sitting there. Waiting. Just for me. They wanted to be loved and I vaguely remember hearing the sweetness of Diana Ross & Lionel Richie singing the chorus of Endless Love as we both met. Score. Love. Seven bucks. Period.
Two hours later I had clean shiny teeth and with a $2 pair of new laces and forty minutes of focused shoe polishing, I was covered from head to toe in elation. A celebration with cheese and crackers for dinner ensued for my pups and I as my soundtrack of real life kept playing on.
Life is like that. That's just how it is.
Doc Side of the Moon /
©2011 gary garbett.com |
My Doc Martens go everywhere. I just happen to tag along.