Blessing Of The Socks

Every morning at 4:00 am the young executive would wake up and ready himself to make a killing in the markets. Perhaps stocks but we’re not sure. He remained in the dark, dazed and confused as to why they called it “Wall Street.” Is it a wall or is it a street? We wish they would make up their minds.

He had a dresser full of socks; 10 black pairs in reserve for business related matters and 10 white pairs to be worn on week ends for outdoor activities like running errands and exercise.

All of his socks were pristine clean. They never needed darning or ironing. He kept them safe from damnation, rolled up nice and neat, wrapped tight inside themselves in balls of twos so as not to lose them and obviously for their own protection.

Remembrance of the evil washer and dryer haunt him to this day. He would place the unsuspecting innocent items in the machine with fabric softener and detergent for cleaning but somewhere between the wash and rinse cycle something strange would happen. Later on one sock would always go away. Poof! Vanish forever, go missing in the ether of space. This is one of those unresolved mysteries of the universe that may never be solved.

Mr. Starr loved his socks but not in a bad way. He respected them for their raw practicality. They facilitated a simple functionality to present him to the world as a well balanced man of superior fashion and taste. It was of critical importance to him to be seen in public with matching same color socks. Only a barbarian would wear a black sock on one foot and a white on the other. That would be a mortal sin not worth seeing. That would be obscene.

Every morning Mr. Starr would open up his sock drawer to bless and sanctify them. None of his socks had tears or holes but he blessed them anyway to keep them holy. In his mind these were not simply “lucky socks” or anything silly like that. They served a divine purpose to make him a better man in business and at play.

Blessed be his unholy socks each and every one. May they remain clean and bright and new in accordance with the universe, in rows of 10 or better if they should miraculously multiply. May they be better than a sweater or lucky charms in milk. May they stay together in pairs of two. May they never go missing in the universe of truth on Tuesdays, which happens to be laundry day. Amen.

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