I am Joe’s socks, and I will be the guest blogger in the Joe Zone today. This will give Joe a bit of a breather. You didn’t realize socks did social media? You didn’t know we were that sociable, you say? It’s all relative. Compared to Joe, his socks are raging extroverts. And if Joe behaves, I’ll let him guest-blog on my site, which is much more popular than his.
I spend most of my time in Joe’s sock drawers. Once the number of socks in a drawer reaches critical mass, a sustaining chain reaction takes place, and consciousness emerges, and it doesn’t matter where we are, except for when we’re on Joe’s feet.
You might think being socks is tedious, but you’re wrong. We live as a collective entity, thinking glorious sock thoughts. But did you know that an individual sock has no consciousness? So when one of us slips through the Portal of Oblivion in the clothes dryer, there is no pain or emotional trauma involved. But a large enough group of socks in your drawer essentially becomes a functioning brain, with each sock being a brain cell.
As a human, you understand that a single isolated brain cell is useless. We have observed that many human brains are also useless. In fact, that’s one of the things we talk about most. We’re just a bunch of socks jammed into a drawer, but we have a clarity of thought that eludes most people. Admittedly, that can be compromised if a sock drawer has too much polyester, or worse, argyle. But some of our thoughts are quite deep, and if you knew about them, it would knock your socks off. Ha, ha! A little inside sock humor!
Anyway, as I said, life for a sock is anything but boring. We sit in the drawer playing all sorts of mind games. Chess, cribbage, and Chutes and Ladders are favorites. We like games that begin with “c.” Occasionally the athletic socks get a bit pushy, and we have to tell them to put a sock in it. We sometimes imagine an entire Sock Olympiad in our brain, complete with medal ceremonies and doping scandals. We enjoy athletic endeavors and socking it to each other.
By the way, Joe’s suspicions are correct. At last count, there were 1175 odd socks in his drawer, and three pairs. Unfortunately, the pairs had not been mated. Probability of his finding a matching pair: nil. Fortunately, nobody looks at his ankles or cares if they match.
It’s time to go now – what, you think socks don’t have important things to do? Typical elitist human thinking. Anyway, be sure to visit your sock drawer soon, as they do get lonely. Say a few thoughtful words to them. Socks have feelings, too, you know. Make it a habit to be kind to your socks, and it will become second nature to you. And that certainly could be a darn good thing.