Podunk Meets Paradise

Musings from Central Idaho

Archive for the tag “shoes”

The Ties That Bind

Christmas break is officially over as the Odd Number bid his farewell this morning. He’s a sophomore at Boise State now and man, they have a long break! Long enough in fact, for me to notice that the young man didn’t know how to tie his shoes.

How can that be, you are asking yourself. The kid is 19 1/2, for crying out loud. Well, it gets worse. Her Royal Highness, age 22 next month, confessed that when she is in the locker room lacing up her ice skates, people critique her technique. That’s because we raised grown ass adults who still use the double bunny ears method of tying their shoes.

We’d bought them a book like this, and those little do-it-yourselfers seemed to have caught on quickly. At least I knew I wasn’t tying their shoes anymore. And maybe there were a lot of slip-on shoes or even Velcro … maybe I didn’t want to know the truth.

But when I saw the Odd Number looping those big bunny ears with his manly paws, I couldn’t turn away this time. We had issues and we needed to work through them. I knew that age had made me a better, more patient teacher, and that was good because Odd is still left handed.

We sat down and practiced a proper shoelace knot, with just the one bunny ear, and then over, under, around and through — now we meet Mr. Bunny Rabbit, pull and through! Victory! We high-fived and I texted Her Royal Highness so she would know it is never too late to learn. And she texted me back and said now that one of my kids could tie his own shoes, I had a 50% success rate. “Still an F,” she noted, with the slightly superior texting tone of the college senior.

Slip-ons can cover up shoe tying deficiencies.

Odd headed out for the night, slipping into his laceless shoes. All was right with the world.

Oops, I Bought Urban Shoes

Speaking of sensible shoes, I treated myself to a new pair of sneaks on one of my traumatic Back to School shopping trips. Trust me, I deserved them. I strolled around in my new Reeboks before I bought them, just like you’re supposed to. There’s definitely nothing like a new pair of shoes to put an extra spring in the step.

new Reeboks

My new sneaks.

How sad to find out that I — she who could not be more rural — had accidentally bought urban shoes.
What are you talking about? you are probably saying to yourself. They are tennis shoes, for Chrissakes! I suppose you can’t wear hot looking Reeboks in Podunk?
Well, my friends, the problem is three-quarter inch crushed gravel. See, my new shoes have this tricky sole with slots meant specifically to capture and keep 3/4-inch crush. So when I stroll around gravel roads and my gravel driveway, which happens on a pretty damned regular occasion, my shoes turn into something akin to rocky moon boots.

Design flaw in the urban shoe.

So, I hope you’ll join me in writing to Uli Becker, president of Reebok, at uli.becker@reebok.com and urge him to stop waging war on Rural Americans. And try not to make fun of me when you see me wobbling toward you.

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