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Ann Cannon: See this shoe? Its partner wants it back

Published October 7, 2011 7:59 pm
This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2011, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

I received a phone call that struck total terror in my heart the other day. It was from my son who lives in Oregon.

"Mom," he said, "I'm pretty sure I left a pair of shoes there last time I visited. Can you find them for me?"

OK, here's why that phone call was so very scary. Do you remember that old sci-fi movie "The Time Machine?" Remember how the main character went into the future where he met attractive surface-dwelling people called the Eloi who led a carefree lalalalala existence until the Morlocks, a much, much, MUCH less attractive subterranean-dwelling people, ate them, because (apparently) there are no cows in the future?

I know! Bad news for the Eloi! Once they walked into those caves it was all over. So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye. They were never seen or heard from again, which is exactly what happens at my house.

My house eats stuff. People and animals have been safe … so far. But other things such as car keys, library books, socks, hoodies, homework, dog leashes, debit cards and unpaid bills have a way of disappearing. You put something down and boom! The next morning it's gone.

Can you see why my son's call made me nervous?

So I told him I would look. And I did — in closets and under beds — until I found his (please note the singular form of the noun) shoe.

That's right. I only found one! shoe!

At first I assumed the Morlocks had eaten the other one. Stupid Morlocks.

Memo to Morlocks: What? There aren't enough Eloi around for you guys these days? You have to go and eat our shoes now, too?

Then suddenly I had this memory involving a recent trip to Deseret Industries. Not too long ago I gathered up a pile of clothes to donate, and as I was sorting through things, I noticed a shoe without a mate, which I threw into the donation box anyway.

WHAT WAS I THINKING? That somebody out there would be delighted to buy a single shoe? Like it was the one true shoe they had been waiting their whole life to find? And that when they found it sitting by itself (obviously) on the shoe rack at D.I., they would fall on the ground and weep hot tears of joy?

Actually, I wasn't thinking when I tossed the shoe. That's the problem right there. I was caught up in that crazy, adrenaline-fueled moment of just wanting to get Stuff. Out. Of. My. House.

Seriously, it feels like you spend the first half of your life acquiring things and the second half of your life getting rid of them.

Anyway. I called my son and left him a voice mail.

"I have some good news and some bad news," I told him. "The good news is that I found one of your shoes! Yay for me! The bad news is that I'm pretty sure your other shoe is at D.I. Not yay for me!"

My son took the news calmly. Or at least I assume he did, although he hasn't (technically speaking) called me back. But whatever. I hope I can make it up to him by tracking his stray shoe down.

So please take a good look at this picture. Have you seen this shoe? If the answer is "yes," contact me in care of this paper. Reward involved. Thank you.

And whatever you do, don't take off your shoes when you come to my house.

Ann Cannon can be reached at acannon@sltrib.com or facebook.com/columnistcannon






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