I have a favorite black belt that I wear. It is, in fact, the only one I wear these days. Danielle told me the old fashion standard of matching the color of the shoes with the belt was long gone, and it didn't really matter anymore. Anyway, after I picked myself up off the floor after that one, I decided to wear the heck out of my favorite black belt, so I did, and I have -- whatever. I put that baby on in the morning, and take it off at night, setting it majestically atop the mound of thirty or so lesser belts from by-gone days, old ropy looking things, fancy buckles that I bought during my "cowboy phase" and never had the guts to wear even once, a couple I bought too large just out of shear laziness, a cottony-knitted thing that jumped into my hand like a flying lemur before I could get out of the damn Active Endeavors store (I don't climb, don't even camp, really, I have no business in that store -- other than the seductive allure of the belts, or course).
The next morning I think to myself, "what belt should I wear?", and I look down at my old black leather friend and think, "Yes, you'll do quite nicely with my suede bucks, blue genes, and turtle neck sweater." -- and so it goes. So it's my favorite belt, you get that. Now something else has been happening...it's a shocker...it's getting curvy. I don't consider myself a fat man by any means, but apparently this belt has, after repeated use, contoured to my belly-age and has formed quite a distinct "wow" in it. I always put my belt on feeding it from the right to the left, wrapping around the torso, and pulling the excess through with my right hand and grabbing the buckle with my left, and snugging that sucker down. Now, if I held the belt up by the buckle it doesn't hang straight down, no. Instead, it corkscrews, and curves boldly to one side.
I noticed it this morning and was a bit horrified. It's my favorite belt, so I decided to take action. But what to do? I thought I could just hang it from a hanger at night when I put it to bed and gravity would straighten it out, but that wouldn't work -- not enough mass for gravity to get the job done. I ruled out brute force and just pulling it straight...it's made of leather...it's a ridiculous option. Finally I decided just to reverse the action by reversing the belt. Instead of right to left I decided to go left to right. Now, maybe you think it's silly, but try it sometime. I equate it to eating cereal with your opposite hand, or putting your dress shirt on with the buttons on the back. It's a seemingly simple task, but completely locks your mind in a pretzel for a few seconds. Once it's on it feels no different, but getting it there is a trick. But that's not the worst part.
I met Danielle for lunch. I was excited to meet her, we don't get to do that very often. We went to a local bar and grill for a nice lunch. We had a lot of fun little things to talk about, and I got caught up in the conversation. I had to go to the bathroom before we even got to the restaurant and found myself 40 seconds into a 30 second fuse. I excused myself and found my way to the restroom, got into the squirrel cage, got my bearings, and then the Lucy skit started. Knees locked, tribal rhythm, beads of sweat forming, and my fingers clawing at my good old - never let me down - black belt. I was an astronaut on Apollo 13 trying to get the right sequence for starting up the re-entry vehicle, "why can't I figure this thing out!!!" I was into the launch sequence, the engines were firing, and I hadn't untethered the craft! I took a moment, let my mind relax, and solved the problem in the nick of time.
I don't know if I'll reverse the belt again tomorrow. I might just go back to my old comfortable habits. But if you want to live on the edge, if you want to test yourself, if you want to walk on the wild side, try walking backwards all day, or hanging upside down for a few hours, or if you really want a thrill, wear your belt backwards.
