A new sole
I think my first shoes were probably booties, but I remember something that might have been termed as a brown Oxford with slippy soles very early on in my Homo erectus evolution. Still, the soul of my existence has been defined by low price sneakers.
You know. What we used to call basketball shoes, before any of us had ever played hoops. After all, my early schools were more given to ball over the school roof and ball thrown hard at little kids. I have memories of something that came in black cotton tops with a rubbery circle on the ankle sides. Definitely high tech shoes.
I did have Adidas (“Deeders”, in my neighbourhood) when such footware was appropriate. I never evolved to the Reebok or New Balance or Nike leagues, though. Now, I have reached that stage in life, that evolutionary level, where runners aren’t necessary. I never run, except to transfer between city buses on nice days, or to try to catch a dog on the lam.
My current “footcovers” are at the end of their useful life. I draw the line at crazyglue to hold them together, and the materials used in the industry, although a result of the lunar missions, don’t respond well to my saddlemaker skills. I have been sort of shopping all summer; you know, mentally shopping, not actually entering a store and committing to trying something on shopping. I check the catalogues that arrive bundled with the newspaper and my colour goes to a whiter shade of pale when I see the current market values proposed by the dealers. These things are certainly aimed at a person that values their feet and running skills more than I do. Seriously, $139.99 should buy something valuable.
So, I salute the wise dealer that cut his prices today. I was in and out of the sporting goods store in less than three minutes, with a price tag that was less than the tax bill for some of the other stuff advertised… Twenty bucks. Now, that’s a snazzy shoe, man!
