Sole Survivor
When I was young it was not uncommon to wear a hole
through the sole of my shoe. That’s
mainly because I had one pair of shoes.
Shoe care was pretty much polishing them on Sunday mornings before Mass,
and putting them close to the hot air register if they were wet from the rain. If it was snowing, or if the sidewalks were
icy, my soles got a bit of a break because we had a pair of rubber goloshes to
pull on over them in the winter.
We got two pair of new shoes every year. In the fall we got leather dress shoes to
wear to church and to school. And, in
the summer, we got a new pair of tennis shoes as we headed into camping and
outdoor play. The dress shoes were the
ones that I usually wore a hole through.
The tennies pretty much just destructed, the rubber soles separated from
the canvas upper portion. That typically
happened some time in August. It meant
that we had to stop often to dump out the pebbles and stones, but my father
reasoned that since summer was almost over by then, there was no reason to replace
them. Because, if we would have gotten
new tennies then, the snow would soon fly so we couldn’t wear them anyway. And if we got new tennis shoes in the fall
they probably wouldn’t fit anymore by the time summer came back around
again.
When I became an adult and got married my shoe
collection became slightly more complicated.
I still got a pair of good leather shoes for church and work. My wife made sure that I never wore a hole in
them. In fact, with every pair, while I
thought they were “just fine” my wife would watch me put them on and frown, and
shake her head. “Those need to be
replaced.” If I didn’t respond quickly
enough to her “suggestion” I would come home one day to find a shoebox on the
bed. “Those are yours”, she would say if
I didn’t quite catch the hint.
Tennies got much more expensive, but they also lasted
for more than just most of a summer. I
would also say that, and maybe it’s just me, but the more expensive shoes did
not help me run faster or jump higher any more than my Red Ball Jets did when I
was ten. Every pair of tennies I have
ever owned have been defective in that way.
One of the luxuries I have indulged in most of my
adult life has been to have a pair of leather moccasins. Perhaps it’s a guy thing to think that having
a pair of shoes just because they are comfortable and they help keep my feet
warm in the winter is a luxury. Although
I wear them mainly at home and inside, there are still plenty of times that the
mail needs to be fetched in, or the grill needs to be fired up, or another
armful of firewood must be brought in.
And since I wear them in or around the house my wife
seems less concerned with their condition.
I’m glad that I only get a new pair every five years or so now. It takes two years just to get them to the
point where they fit just right – meaning that they are loose enough to slip on
easily, but still snug enough to keep my feet warm.
That doesn’t mean that Michelle doesn’t let one of the
kids who is looking for a Christmas present idea know when my current moccasins
are looking a little worse for wear. I
did get a new pair just last Christmas. They
stayed in the box for several months as I was in no rush. I wear them about half the time now. When I kicked them off after lighting the
grill the other day, one flipped upside down and I noticed a hole worn through
the bottom. The stitching near the toe
has been fraying for several months now.
I’m trying to adjust to the reality that it’s about time for them. I’m pretty sure that they are to the point
where even my father would have to admit it’s time.
His Peace <><
Deacon Dan
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