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A SHOE IN

So there I was, strolling down the hall, when I realized every step I took was met with furious applause.

Now, I don’t know about you, but it’s not every day that merely walking down the hall gets that response. Sure, like everyone else, I get the occasional standing ovation for no reason, but this seemed exceptionally random.

To my dismay, I soon realized that I was not, in fact, receiving applause. Rather, the soles of my shoes had gone rogue-state on me, and were trying to flee the motherland. About half of each sole was still attached, leaving a big clapping shoe. Every step saw the sole separate from the body, and then come flap-flap-flapping back. The faster I walked, the more popular I sounded.

Alas, despite the cheering, I decided it was time for new shoes. I have worn the same brand of shoes for roughly 15 years. I am a loyal and devoted consumer. I would never, ever even consider switching brands. It was at that point that I had several revelations:

1. My feet always hurt. When I wake up in the morning, I feel like a small porcupine had burrowed into my heel. I could wear some wooden Dutchboy shoes and my feet couldn’t hurt more.

2. The loyalty factor with said shoe company was definitely a one-way street. Otherwise, they would not continue to allow Nick Nolte to design their shoes. That is the only possible explanation for the color combinations and various textures they combine to make what are allegedly shoes. Every time I go to buy new shoes, it takes me more and more of my time to locate a pair of shoes that meets the basic simple criteria of (a) actually looks like shoes and (b) comprised of colors that creatures other than bees can see.

3. Renee Zellweger is creepy looking. She’s too squinty. While that technically has nothing to with shoes, I think it needs to be said.

It was at this point that I decided I needed to break away from my controlling shoe relationship. When I walked in to the shoe store, I found it was a liberating experience to be able to stroll through all of the aisles of sneakers, without concern for brand name.

This lasted about 10 seconds, at which point I realized that most other shoe brands utilize the design styling of Mr. Nolte as well. I decided I needed to let nature take control of this one. I have found, throughout my life, that every female I have known has more fashion sense than I. Granted, so does most every male. And every dog. And every tree. But regardless, I know that, in a pinch, I can turn to one of the fashion-conscience women in my life and they will save me. Unfortunately, the only female in the vicinity was my two-year-old.

So after she selected a pair of Barney shoes and a pair of three-inch pumps for Daddy, I realized I would have to brave it on my own. After an eternity (read: three, maybe four minutes, tops), I stumbled down an aisle that could have been labeled “Reasonably priced, conservatively styled shoes for the boring suburban guy.” There I found a brand of shoe that was crafted with me – the boring, couch-potato guy who wanted some sneakers without the hassle of actually having to do anything remotely athletic. I am finished with the shoes of my past. I now move to the future with my new brand. But I do have to say this: I will miss the applause.

E-mail me at mgibbons@aikenstandard.com.