Excited About Shoes?

    When was the last time you got excited about buying a new pair of shoes?  Your answer may depend a great deal upon how many X chromosomes you have.  Yesterday my wife and I walked out of a department store with four pairs of shoes; two for me and two for her.  I believe it had been about two years since I had purchased a pair of shoes.  I informed her that when I got home I was throwing away two pairs of shoes and replacing them with the new ones, and challenged her to do the same.  "Not likely," was the gist of her body language and mumblings.  Several times that evening, once before we got out of the store, once in the parking lot on the way to the car, and again at the restaurant she exclaimed with glee, "We bought four pairs of shoes!"  Now, all things being equal, wouldn't you expect  the person who had not purchased a pair of shoes for the past two years to be more excited about that transaction than the one who buys a pair a shoes at least once a month?  Instead, I understood that I purchased those shoes because the other pairs I already owned needed replacing.  It was a practical, utilitarian decision for me on the same level as the purchase of a roll of toilet paper.  It was cause for rejoicing for her on the level of finding a forgotten twenty-dollar bill in the pocket of a long-unused coat.

    That leads me to another observation.  I was looking at casual dress shoes, with my lovely wife right there to guide me, and found a pair I thought had good workmanship, soles that would grip a slippery surface, and the kind of material that would make the upper parts easy to keep looking nice.  She saw another pair that looked good.  I tried on both pairs and decided on the pair she had picked out.  Then, after I had announced my decision, she pointed out another pair that would look good on me.  "I already have a pair," I told her.  She was doing her ancient ancestor gathering thing.  I had finished the hunt and was ready to return to camp.

    The second pair I wanted was to replace a worn out pair of running shoes.  She walked down the aisle looking at various pairs and commenting on two things: looks and price.  I walked around and looked for good support for my ankles and room for my orthotics.   

    I recently read something about geneticists changing their minds about that extra X chromosome women have.  They previously thought it was largely useless; just an extra letter of the alphabet that had no real purpose.  Now they are thinking it may have a great deal to do with why woman are so different from men.  They still don't know what it does, but now they think it is very important.

    I believe I have it figured out.  That extra X chromosome is the shoe chromosome.  Think about it.  It is "extra;" not really needed.  It is there for looks, not utility.  It is non-descript; one X looks pretty much like any other X.  Yet, if it were removed it would drastically alter its confines, which would take on the appearance of a male's environment, one Y shoe and one X shoe. 

    I suspect these scientists will eventually find that woman have more than one extra X chromosome.  If they look carefully they will eventually find dozens hidden away in genetic closets, lined up neatly in some, piled high on the floors of others, but hiding there waiting for that one special day in their lives when they will be brought out and noticed only by all the other X chromosomes who will display signs of great excitement.  We men will simply shake our heads and ask,"Y"?