Why I was Rooting for Heather Watson

We’re on the Same “Team”

She lost, but check out those shoes.

I try to resist consumerism. I believe it is a false religion. All religions begin with the premise that the “unaltered life is an experience of suffering” and then provide a set of steps for achieving “joy” or “happiness”. Consumerism is simply the idea that you can buy your way to happiness through “stuff”. We all know that’s a lie. If it weren’t, the rich would be the happiest people on earth, but the wise will tell you that the rich are some of the saddest people around.

Still, we get sucked in. Like early Hebrews unable to resist the hill shrines, we wander back into stores and take in the canticles of commercialism on our idiot devices.

I try to resist. I won’t call a “grande” a “grande”, instead I ask for a “large”. I won’t say “biggie fries” at Wendy’s. I try to use New England mores to stymie the forces of Babylon. I concentrate on “simplicity”, “thrift”, and “humility” when making purchases.

The genius of consumerism is that it makes a vice of all virtues. You care about your baby, so you should buy safety products. You love your family members, you should demonstrate that love through things.

Big data knows more about us than we know about ourselves. We know what we want, and so does big data, but big data also knows what we don’t care about… and we don’t know that. I don’t wear cologne or aftershave. It takes some effort for me to think about that and acknowledge it, but big data knew it long ago. The algorithms could probably pick the candidate I will be most interested in. I don’t know many of the up-and-coming politicians, but big data knows all the players, and who they appeal to, and big data knows me, so the priests and priestesses of the oracle can see a future that I cannot.

If I google “old man sneakers” I get the very sneakers I wear. There is a whole post in unpacking what that means. Are they just serving up what I will buy? Shouldn’t big data shield me from the knowledge that I am wearing old man clothes? Do they know so much about me that they know I’m not afraid of being an “old man” and are happy to help reinforce and bring to reality my own self-perception?

I have always been an old man. I’m in my fifties, but I was old when I was young. My older brother complained about my mouth breathing when I was seven by saying, “He sounds like an old man.” My name means “old man” in Irish if you don’t put a stroke over one of the letters. I have never used that stroke.

I don’t believe in wearing sneakers, except for sports. I would like to be the kind of person that never wore sneakers casually in public, but I wear sneakers. I wear sneakers around the house and when I work outside. The truth is, I end up wearing sneakers in public a lot. Much more than I would like to admit.

Here are my sneakers:

My old sneakers (for mowing the lawn), left, and my new sneakers (for formal occasions) right.

You can see that those are New Balance sneakers. It has become increasingly obvious to me that white New Balance tennis sneakers are the choice of oldsters everywhere.

Trump doesn’t wear sneakers, but if he did, guess what he would wear?

Someone scrubbed the “N” I think. That’s a New Balance 608.

These are my comrades. If you extrapolate the rest of these men’s bodies you will end up with an approximation of my own.

You can’t see his shoes, but I PROMISE that guy is wearing a pair of New Balance 608s.

There are forces at work here that are greater than I am. The universe knows something that I do not. Wearing plain, white New Balance sneakers is not a “choice”, it is my commercial destiny.

I could rebel. I could pick something other than New Balance sneakers to wear in an effort to express my will, but in doing so I would be part of the “fashion trend” AWAY from plain white sneakers and TOWARDS whatever it is the gods of commerce want old people to buy next.

I’m holding fast. One of the benefits of being a man is that you can just wear the same clothes your whole life and nobody really cares.

So, imagine my delight when I saw that Heather Watson was wearing my sneakers!

OK, maybe not exactly my sneakers, but close!

The public face of New Balance

So, here it how weird the world is. I supposedly don’t care about what sneakers I wear, yet somehow, when I see a paid shill wearing my “brand” I instinctively root for her. She is on my “team” you see. We wear the same brand.

In a world where real connections become harder and harder to maintain, this is what we are left with.

Still, I like that Heather Watson. She is strong, young, athletic, and tough… and she wears old man sneakers. It makes me happy!