so i was at my buddy’s place last week and he’s showing me this new tv he got, like really proud of it. 65 inches, some brand i’d never heard of. and while he’s going on about refresh rates and color accuracy, i’m just sitting there thinking about how my dad used to do the exact same thing with his stereo system in the 90s.
just standing there, pointing at speakers, explaining woofers and tweeters to anyone who’d listen. and i’m realizing, we’re becoming our parents. like it’s happening right now.
anyway, that’s when i saw it. this foot massager thing just sitting there next to his recliner like it belonged there. the comfier shiatsu foot massager.
found it here if you’re curious:
and i’m looking at this thing thinking, when did we become the guys who own foot massagers.
when did that happen.
anyway, it’s got shiatsu rollers, heat settings, vibration modes, compression levels. it’s basically a spaceship for your feet. and according to the reviews, people are loving this thing.
some retail worker wrote this whole emotional journey about working 30 years on concrete floors, trying every foot massager known to man, and this one finally being “the one.” like they found a soulmate but it’s a machine that squeezes your feet.
it heats up to 131 degrees fahrenheit. and it’s got 3 compression levels, which means it can squeeze your feet with varying degrees of enthusiasm. there’s a vibration mode that some people love and others say tickles too much. imagine having to return a foot massager because it’s too ticklish. that’s a conversation i never want to have.
why this is actually about death
it’s not the machine itself. it’s what it represents. like, at what point in your life do you go from i’ll walk it off to i need a dedicated foot recovery device. when do you cross that line. because apparently i’m there now. i’m at the age where i look at a foot massager and think yeah i need that.
and the reviews. they’re all from people who’ve just accepted their fate. nurses, retail workers, teachers. people who stand all day and have given up on the idea that their feet will ever not hurt. they’re not even trying to fix the problem anymore. they’re just managing it. with a machine. that they plug in every night like it’s a phone charger for their feet
about compression
this one person writes about how they hate the vibration feature but their husband loves it, so they’re grateful there’s a button to turn it off. that’s marriage right there. compromising on foot massage settings.
another person mentions they wear size 9 shoes and there’s still room to spare like they’re reviewing a hotel room.
the compression feature apparently squeezes your feet with enough pressure it’s relaxing not painful. that’s such a specific threshold. like there’s this perfect amount of foot squeezing that exists in the universe and this machine found it.
some reviews mention starting on low intensity to avoid discomfort, like you have to train your feet to accept mechanical affection. you have to ease into it. your feet need time to trust the machine.
accepting my inevitable purchase
so yeah, i’m going to buy one. not because i need it. not yet. but because i can feel it coming. the foot pain. the long days. the moment when standing becomes something you think about instead of something you just do.
it’s like buying life insurance but for your feet. you don’t need it until you need it, and by then it’s too late to not have already needed it.
i can already imagine using it. sitting there after work, feet getting mechanically kneaded while i watch whatever show. becoming the guy who has opinions about heat settings. knowing which compression level is “my level”. having a favorite foot massage mode like it’s a coffee order. yeah, i like medium compression with high heat, no vibration. that’s my thing.
i guess this is growing up. not the jobs or the mortgages or the kids. it’s the moment you see a foot massager and think that looks nice. it’s accepting that your body is a machine that needs maintenance. it’s understanding why your dad had that special chair no one else was allowed to sit in.
anyway, i’ll order one. my buddy says it changed his life, and he said it completely straight-faced, no irony. just a man and his truth and his mechanically massaged feet. maybe that’s wisdom. maybe that’s what peace looks like. or maybe we’re all just slowly turning into furniture.
best price ive seen:
*aff link (if this makes me 12 cents, i’ll feel powerful for like 40 minutes)