i am looking at a pair of red wool sox that i bought in 1970

Can he walk on hot coals and not blister his feet? (Proverbs 6:28)

I am looking at a pair of red wool sox that I bought in 1970. And here they are still in my possession. No holes, no visible wear, still bright red.

I remember when I bought them. It was in Germany in the PX and my feet were cold. They were ski sox and were rather thick wool and came in two colors: red and blue. I bought one of each for about a dollar each. I wore them with my combat boots in the snow.

I have had those sox since before I got married, before I had any career plans (other than leaving the army as fast as I could), before I answered the call to preach, before all my whole life.

I bought them before I was 21. And now here I am at almost 62.

The blue ones are gone somewhere, no telling where. The red ones look a little old, but for 41 year old sox, they look great.

I bought them when Nixon was president, when the Vietnam war was raging, when gas was less than a quarter, when you could walk right onto an airplane, when people hitchhiked without fear, when long hair on guys was considered bad, when bell bottoms were coming in, when cars were huge, when a computer took up an entire floor in a skyscraper, when the Beatles were still together (barely), when the world was young and so was I.

It was before air conditioning for the most part, before so many things, before fear.

When I bought those sox, my whole life was before me in all its shining splendor. Now it lies for the most part behind me. There are very few things I have that are that old or older, but none are in as good a shape as these sox. Except for the heat, I could put them on tomorrow and wear them. The elastic in the top is long gone, but the basic structure of the sox is still good.

Now sometimes my wife wears them in the evening. Since the advent of fleece sox, she hasn’t. but she used to a lot.

I have had a dozen or more guitars, a couple of dozen cars, one wife, two children, a dozen or more cats and dogs, a number of coffeemakers, quite a few heartbreaks in ministry, three or four wedding rings, but this one pair of sox still remains.

I may be making more of this than I should, but there seems to something apocalyptic about a 41 year old pair of sox. I feel they need to be noticed, celebrated, something. Maybe a frame with a little LED spotlight.

I know they are good for an article in my blog, but other than that, they will probably go back into the drawer and sit, waiting for their moment in the cold to give warmth. Maybe I can will them to one of my kids and he or she can start a heritage. Heritage sox.

Yes, kids, your great, great grandpa bought these in Europe in the old days. I think it was during World War 2 or something, and he brought them over the Oregon Trail or something. They were special sox and kept him from freezing to death with the Donner Party or something like that.

Great sox. Stupid kids though with no knowledge of history.

BTW, the verse above has nothing to do with sox, but I just like to match a verse. It makes me feel all spiritual.