Dear Mr. Bell,
I am sorry. I take upon myself the international infraction of trying to be something that was not made to be. In 1876 you invented and I quote, an “apparatus for communication of sound to a hearer at a distance”, and called it the telephone... and what have we done? Well some would say we’ve improved it and made it “smart”. So now my beloved shoe telephone I got 10 years ago for my 16th birthday is now unimportant, inconsequential, and quote, “out of date” because it has a strange string attached to it called a cord.
It may not have a chip that will store my 10,000 intimate friend’s contact information, or connect me to the interweb, or beep at me with up-to-the-second updates of my global position in relation to the nearest Starbucks and how long it will take to get there based on current traffic and weather conditions for the next 400 yards, but my beloved tele will cause me to sit in the Poang I placed it next to and communicate. Just talk, you know, that old fashioned thing, on my old fashioned phone. It rings and the buttons make a click when I push them. There is no one like you, shoe.
