Glory Fade

 

 

 

So, yeah ... it's finally be time.  Time for the old Faded Glory shoes to give up the ghost.

They've been a faithful companion for far more than 20 years.  They've gone through thick and thin, been glued together at the sole, at the heel and elsewhere at least a couple dozen times over their lifetime.  They've weathered mud and rain and all sorts of weather.  Each gouge and scuff mark tells a story.  There are places where they're threadbare, the anterior heels are worn down to a nub. The material lining the insides of them (what little of it is left) has long since frayed and given way to almost nothingness.

 

Surprisingly, the soles of the shoes themselves are not that worse for wear. 

 

 
Regardless, one more gluing, one more repair, one more modification to keep them wear-worthy just isn't in the cards.  You can see the repairs I've made to them everywhere, all sorts of different glues oozing out the heals.  The rubber of them is has actually begun rejecting mending and restoration.  I'm pretty certain that time last year when I chased an escaped dog for a mile and more was truly the start of their ultimate demise.

 

They've housed many different feet, hundreds of thousands of steps, an extended life that should have seen them tossed many moons ago. 

 

So long, old friends.  You've been faithful and true ...

 

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

I Have A Shoe Problem ...

I have a shoe problem.

I also have a clothing problem … but that’s best left for a different blog entry. (Mayhap by the reading of my shoe problem, you might catch a hint of what my clothing problem is.)

Yes. I have a shoe problem.

It manifested itself over the weekend. And it became necessary for me to give in to it. Yes. I purchased a pair of shoes. (Well … technically my wife did. It was she who actually conducted the transaction. So that really wasn’t a problem.)

Here’s the situation:

We’ll have to vault back to a time ... many, many years ago when there was actually a Mervyn’s department store … before they went out of business. Because that was the last time I purchased a pair of shoes. (And, if memory serves, that too was a transaction conducted by my wife.)

I was ambling about in the shoe section while my patient spouse was failing in her attempt to get our daughter to settle on any pair of shoes to wear (an ongoing dilemma to this day).

Aimlessly wandering about, I happened upon a clearance rack. There, at eye level, was a black box. I don’t recall the name on the box, but something caught my eye. It was an oval sticker claiming “85% off”. I scanned the box for the original sticker price. Finding it, it claimed the shoes were $95.00. I quickly did the math: At 85% off, they would ring up at a mere $14.25. I decided to get them. Where else was I going to find a pair of spiffy dress shoes for $14.25?

Heading to the register, they were scanned. They came up something completely and totally different than the $14.25 figure I had come up with in my head.

Something radically different.

$2.16. Two ... Dollars ... Sixteen ... Cents.

“Are you certain?” I inquired of the sales lady assisting me. She was certain.

And, therein, lies my shoe problem: I will be hard pressed to find another pair of dress shoes - ones around $100.00 - that will ring up at $2.16.

Years went by. And the problem continued to be just that. A problem seemingly without end.

That was … until this past weekend.

The wife was tending to the girls and they're inability to decide on shoes for school. She seemed a bit frustrated, so I stayed away and let her deal with them. In this case, misery does not love company, I thought.

And then, suddenly, another black box before me.

$80.00, the box beckoned. $80.00 with a discount sticker attached to it. An 80% off sticker at that. That made’em $16.00 out the door.

Or did it?

Could my fortune of those many years ago be re-manifesting itself once more? Would I get up to the check out register and have the box scanned by a helpful associate only to find that $16.00 price was naught?

Fat chance.

They rang up at $16.00. Plus tax.

You see … I have a shoe problem.

I hunt for the elusive single-dollar pair of dress shoes …

............................. Ruprecht ( STOP )