Take a Step

Gone are the days of my childhood when shoes were often classified into three groups. One pair for church, one for school and one for everyday. The church pair was never too flashy but it was less scuffed and most likely had a patent leather look. The school pair was sturdy and suitable for desk time and recess adventures. The everyday pair was the work horse of the bunch, able to withstand time picking beans in the garden, tying bales in the field (ugh) and cleaning rooms in the house. Most of my early shoe selections involved a trip to the big town of Mitchell where the metal foot measurer thingy did its magic for a proper fit.

Today, the choice of footwear does not fall into such easily defined categories. To add confusion to the process, the nomenclature has also evolved. Recently, I needed a new pair of shoes for my walking and birding excursions. I had blown a hole in my New Balance shoes and could not ignore the extra air-conditioning any longer. I liked my NB shoes but I decided to upgrade a bit and try a different brand.

With all the confidence of a possum, I walked into the shoe department of a local sporting goods store. A 12-year-old clerk approached me. I'll call him Jimmy. Jimmy had an I-run-twenty-miles-a-day look pasted all over his face. I am sure he drew the short straw when he had to assist the old lady. In his defense, he was very pleasant.

Out of the gate I faltered when Jimmy asked me how he could be of assistance. I said, "I am looking for a new pair of".......pause.....pause....."tennis shoes? sneakers? hikers? walkers? trail runners? trainers? I am sorry but I do not know what to call these any more. What would you call them?"

Jimmy cautiously replied, "Well, I just call them shoes." Well played, Jimmy, well played. We will just call them shoes. I explained to him how I would be using the shoes for walking and birding. I also needed a fat toe box for fat feet and for an array of old lady foot problems. He nodded his head and we began the process of foot insertion and extraction. As usual, preferred colors are never the correct size so I had to settle on an Antarctica-white pair of shoes. I am not fashion fussy but stalking birds can involve muddy, dirty tromping. I looked at Jimmy and said, "I will take these and let's look at them one last time because they will never be white again." We had a moment of silence and then I thanked JImmy for his help.

I believe the shoes are too expensive for me but I must confess they do feel really good. Time will tell if they hold up to a lot of pavement pounding and bird chasing. Part of me hopes they do not so I can go back to a cheaper pair but I also know the importance of decent shoes. Never mind that I still do not know what to call them.