It’s funny how an event can change the way you remember everything from that moment on. Normally I would not remember the last time I bought new tennis shoes, but because of something called the Tony I do.

The last pair of athletic shoes I bought was the week before I made the trip back to New York for the Tony awards. Had I not won a Tony the little details about what I bought for the trip might not be remembered, but in this case I know I’ve had these shoes since June 5th.

Last weekend we were invited for an evening of dinner and sailing on a friend’s sail boat. Naturally, I wore my semi-new tennis shoes. The ones I have worn almost every day since I purchased them two months ago.

I didn’t know the Captain’s girlfriend but about ten minutes after we met on the boat she made the comment, “I am trying to figure out what is the deal with your shoes.”

“What IS the deal with my tennis shoes?” I asked.

“Well, it’s the laces?” She remarked. I looked at the shoes and didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. I had no idea what she was referring to. That is when she pointed out that the left shoe was laced with zigzag lacing, while the right one was laced with straight, parallel lacing. It was obvious the two shoes did not match because of the way they were laced.

When faced with a mathematical error, spelling mistake or some slip in perception, I usually cry dyslexia is to blame. However, this seems to be a decidedly obvious lack of attention. As an artist I believe I am more perceptive than average, but this calls that belief into question.

I suppose had she not been so brash I would have continued to wear the unmatched shoes for the rest of their natural life. How many people have noticed and not said anything? How many people just assumed it was a fashion statement or idiosyncrasy? Much worse they could be thinking, “The poor old man can’t even tie his shoes.” Tony winners I suppose should know better than to go in public that way. I corrected the mistake before we cast off that evening, and have been better dressed to that degree since.

I am reminded of a story that happened years ago at a theater in Fort Worth, Texas. I was in the lobby waiting to see a show. An elderly lady dressed in her finest entered the theater alone. As she walked across the lobby she dropped her program. She bend down to pick it up and realized she was wearing one red shoe and one black shoe. Here dress was not long enough to hide the mistake. She stood up in a grand fashion straightened her clothes and walked out of the lobby crying. I have always felt sympathy for her but never thought I would become her. I know now that we are all just one shoe away from insanity.

As you were,
Jay