New Castle News
NEW CASTLE —
I have haphazardly stumbled onto an interesting new realization about myself. Something that I was laterally aware of, but never gave any real though to.
Now that I am conscious of my situation, I must remedy it.
Allow me to explain my conundrum. I used to have many pairs of shoes. I had several different pairs for church, and a pair or two for work. I had a pair for mowing the grass and another pair for stomping through the creeks or fishing. I even had a pair of rubber boots for those muddy jobs. I also had a pair of extra warm, felt-lined boots for hunting and those extremely cold days filled with winter chores.
I had flip-flops and sandals for the beach and quick jaunts to the mailbox. I even had a pair of those shoes with no laces so you could slip them on really quickly when you just had to get to the ice cream shop before they closed. Some of my shoes were stylish, some were cool, and some were — dare I say — fashionable.
Over the course of time, each pair has met its own demise or found its way into the Goodwill bin. For some reason or another, as these tools wore out their useful existence in my world, they were never replaced by a bright and shiny upgrade. Their absence has left a gap in my wardrobe. These gaps slowly and methodically made me into a one-pair kind of guy.
I now have but one pair of shoes. Gone are my boots, gone are the creek stompers, and gone are the extra nice church and wedding shoes. No more flip-flops, no more loafers, and of course, no more rubber boots.
The one pair that remains have become my all-occasion shoe. I wear them to work every single day. They are the constant companion of my feet at church and at the grocery store. They have celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, and have traveled all over the countryside with me.
They are a quite incredible pair of shoes. I've had them about four years now. They came from an online order from JC Penney and they bear the stylish white Adidas stripes over the soft black leather. They are truly broken in and cradle my feet perfectly. They still are holding up quite well, though they are beginning to show their age.
It is entirely possible that my life has become so humdrum and one directional that I didn't even notice that I have an all-occasion shoe. Maybe it is that I just don’t care anymore. Whatever the case, I am still down to one pair of shoes, and that makes me feel old.
What’s next for me? Possibly a pair of stretch pants pulled half way up to my chest? A huge pair of sun glasses to block out every ray of sunshine, or maybe flashing my AARP card to make sure I get my discount at any and all retail outlets?
But alas, I reel myself back in from the edge of desperation and self-inflicted, old-guy purgatory. I feel that I have a few good years left until I must succumb to the perils of orthopedic shoes or my own senility.
I'm going shopping, ’cause Daddy needs a new pair of shoes!
By the way, does anybody know where Picway moved to?