A Confession of Obsession.

To Whom it may Concern,

I would like to send my condolences to the affected parties, because I now know how far my obsession has gone. It started out in the fifth grade, athey were so pretty with their gigantic tongues and stenciled writing on the backside of that. The Nike Air Solo Flight 89 was my first venture away from skips and into the world of mainstream shoes. Just so we are clear Mid-Range Nikes are a gateway shoe that can lead to more hardcore shoes and anyone that tells you otherwise is in complete denial much like I was for much of my life. From that point I moved into the Converse Larry Johnson's, they were black with blue-green writing and react juice in the heal. I am not quite sure what react juice is but I know that it did not actually help you play basketball any better. Next came the era of the PUMP, I had a pair of the cross-trainers with the ERS in the heal. This was not that Hexalite bullshit, this was first rate, I actually don't believe that it gets any better than that particular shoe, except for the Nike Airforce 180 with the Nike version of the Pump. That pair of shoes I actually still have though sadly I can no longer wear a size 6.5. Then my shoe tastes broadened to the somewhat abnormal brands, asfar as Bonham, Texas was concerned, to Adidas, Saucony, and New Balance. I have had every year of Air Jordan from '88 til now, and every pair of Shaq Reebok PUMPs. My life, since that fateful birthday on the 18th of May 1988, has been an affair with one pair of shoes after another. Loving each one equally but never straying to far from any of the others. When I got my first job I was so excited because at that point my shoes would no longer be controlled by anyone I could get what I wanted no matter the cost. My first pair that I purchased? The Nike Air Max '96 Lime green and grey, still to this day the coolest colorway ever. I am writing this to help everyone that had the problem that I once lived with of keeping this 1200 lb. gorrilla in its cage, its impossible and once you set him free you will learn there are others like you. Your habit is no longer a disgrace but a hobby many people all over the world are consumed by the same flame and will gladly trade you a pair of vintage Huraches for the deadstock Mowabs you have stashed in your closet. Don't believe me just look.