Would it go “meaux” instead of “moo?” What does a Mexican Bull sound like? Does that bull go “mooleche, mooleche” instead of “moo moo”? How ‘bout them French cows? I guess they bellow “la’crème, la’crème.”

Well, I guess you are wondering why in the world I would even ask the question. Of course, we all know that regardless of where that cow was bred and born they all make a sound that we as humans have tagged as “moo.”

“Moo” is a word that cows really don’t say, but it sounds that way to our human ears. So if all cattle make the same sounds in all parts of the world, then what makes a pair of shoes from Italy so much more expensive than a pair of shoes from China? Consider this more deeply. If a cobbler in Italy receives a shipment of leather, does that leather in Italy come from Italy or would it maybe come from Texas? If the same cobbler were in China would he get a different kind of leather?

If both pairs of shoes were handmade with the same type of thread and of the same size and color, what difference makes one pair cost ten times as much as the other? I know, I know, labor costs makes a big difference, but if all things were equal, why would we pay more for the shoes from Italy?

Well, none of this really matters, but I brought the question up just to aggravate a good friend of mine. His name is Doc Holiday. No, I’m not kidding. I have never asked him how he received this nickname, but I’m sure there is another story behind it. His real name is Skeeter…I mean…John Holiday. He is a long time friend and our families have known each other probably most all our lives.

I’m a few years advanced of Doc in the age bracket. He and I attend the same church and I occasionally see him from time to time. A few weeks ago, prior to a service, he and I were having a conversation when a lady approached Doc and they began a conversation while he was standing next to me. As they chit-chatted back and forth, he mentioned that his daughter had just gotten back from the country of Italy and he then pointed to his “new Italian shoes” she had bought for him.

As I gazed down at his shoes I promptly replied back that my shoes were from “Wal-Mart, right here in Texas!” We both chuckled and went our separate ways.

The gift from his daughter was a very nice gift and the work and effort they had to put into the purchase was probably high. Consider they had to buy the shoes, lug them around while shopping, pack them away and then handle them from the airport to home and once again into her father’s hands. It took a lot of effort for this one pair of shoes to be given as a gift and it was very kind of her to do so.

The more and more I thought about his shoes I began to wonder in my mind what makes those shoes any better than another pair bought in another country? Leather is leather. Thread is thread and a good cobbler in one country can be just as good as the next one in another country, so why do we place emphasis on the country of origin when we talk about the clothes we wear?

All in all, there could be a number of good answers to the questions, but the truth of the matter is I really don’t need to know the answer. I was just doing this because I told Doc I was going to write about his shoes. All comments and opinions about a pair of shoes from Italy can be directed to another friend named Sam, a.k.a. Stick.

Now, I’m not going to comment on what I thought about his shoes. If I start commenting on wearing apparel too much, somebody may think I’m an expert or something. When it comes to clothes and shoes all I care about is that they cover up the right spots. I couldn’t tell you the difference between a pair of shoes made in Italy and a pair of underwear made in France.

Oh, by the way! Happy belated birthday to Reverend Holiday.

Clifford

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