Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

It’s amazing. When he was a kid, he usually had two pairs of shoes, known as his ‘good’ shoes and his play shoes. Good shoes were also known as ‘dress-up’ shoes and ‘nice’ shoes. Play shoes became gym shoes and good shoes became school shoes. Dress shoes were added into the mix.

This trio — gym, or ‘tennis’ shoes, as they grew to be called — school shoes, dress shoes — were the status quo for years. A second pair of school shoes was added, along with cleated shoes for sports.

During his military years, he stayed with the triumvirate of shoes for his personal life. Gym shoes were still tennis shoes (though he didn’t play tennis), along with dress shoes and ‘jeans’ shoes. He began playing racquetball, so racquetball shoes were added to the mix. So were sandals. Then running shoes joined the shoe group. Military requirements dictated three more pairs of shoes: low-quarters (which were a super-shiny version of dress shoes), chukka boots, and combat (or paratrooper) boots. So it mostly stayed for his military career, except slippers were added through Christmas presents, and jungle boots and desert boots were added to fit his mission needs. The three pairs of military footwear were now five, because they’d done away with the chukkas.

Civilian life post military retirement brought on more shoe requirements. Aging helped. And shoe marketing. Now he added beach shoes, boating shoes, hiking shoes, walking shoes, and several pairs of ‘jeans’ shoes, also now called ‘casual’ shoes. There were work shoes, so he looked the role in the ‘business casual’ environment, but the military shoes were gone.

Going into marketing added more shoes to go with suits. Brown, gray, and black shoes were needed. He still had running and hiking shoes, along with walking shoes, jeans shoes, and casual work shoes. He was wearing cargo shorts frequently, and needed shoes to go with those. Moving from a pleasant year round clime to a snowy and wet environment brought up needs for wet weather and cold weather shoes.

Now he’s come to retirement. The suit shoes sit in boxes on shelves, but the rest have become so complex and numerous. He purged his shoes regularly, giving them away. His feet had widened and his feet’s needs had changed through the years, and that dictated changes as well.

Like so many other things, it’d become so very, very complicated. He wished for the days again when he had just two pairs of shoes. Given how life goes, he figured that circle would complete itself when he grew older.

Next: socks.

Wednesday’s Wandering Thought

He’d been walking on a sidewalk, going up a hill, when a passing van’s music blasted him.

He knew that song — rock, yes — but his mind refused to give up the song’s title or the band’s name. Even more of the song was denied him. The same seven seconds kept swirling through his mental music stream.

It was going to tear up his mind. He needed to find enough to remember it or look it up. Based on his current rate of remembering, it’d probably be sometime on Friday or Saturday before he remembered.

Keepsakes

If I could remember what I wanted to say –

It was something about the stuff in this drawer. It’s just –

I’ve never had any real use for this drawer. It was, you know…extra. So I started putting things in it. Odd stuff. All this was supposed to be temporary but a lot of it’s been in here for years. I don’t know what it’s all from. Screws leftover from things I installed. Never like to throw away screws. Never know when you’ll need a screw just like this one. Screwdriver, of course. I was looking for that. It’s supposed to be in my tool box. Or these pens. Old gum. Gum’s probably been in here ten years. Trident. My wife liked chewing it, so I kept some on hand for her. Don’t need it now. Cat toys. Don’t need that, either. Last cat I had was Jury. Big black cat. Sweetest animal you’ll ever meet. He died…how long ago was that? Shoelaces. A stone. I can almost remember why I kept this little stone. Look at it. Strange blue. Round, almost oval.

Everything in here was part of a moment. It all meant something to me when I put it in here. I can’t remember any of it.

I can’t even remember what it was that I wanted to tell you. I don’t even recall why I wanted to speak.

But there was something I wanted to say.

I just can’t remember. It feels like I should.

Details

I remember a time –

It might have been in the sixties. Or maybe the seventies.

I think I was living in Pennsylvania then. Or Ohio.

And I was probably in –

Let me think.

I was born in 1956 so if it was in the sixties, I would have probably been thirteen or so.

So, no.

No, I think I was older than that.

So it must have been in the 1970s when this happened.

Yes, that’s right. I was in high school.

It was a sunny day.

Dad and I – he had his red Thunderbird then –

Oh, no, wait, he had the Monte Carlo, the burgundy Monte Carlo.

You know the model, the one with the swoopy lines, and the captain’s chairs?

He bought that new in 1974.

Had to be 1974 because I graduated that year, and I remember driving that car.

Then I left home.

Oh, and we were living in Virginia. That’s right.

I remember now. It’s all coming back.

It was ’74.

Anyway, Dad and I were in the car together, going somewhere.

I think it was a Sunday.

Yes, it must have been a Sunday, because he was off.

We were going to a restaurant for dinner.

Which surprised me. He suggested it. We never went out for dinner, he and I.

It was just us living together then.

Yes, I remember, we went to an Italian restaurant. He had the veal parm.

I don’t know what I had.

Anyway, let me finish.

We were in the Monte Carlo.

And he said, “What do you plan to do with your life?”

The question surprised me.

He never asked me these things.

Shrugging after a few seconds, I answered, “I don’t know.

“What did you plan to do with your life?”

We came to a red traffic light. He stopped the car behind the other cars.

We were the fourth car.

The car in front of us was a pickup truck.

Dad looked out the windshield straight ahead until the light turned green.

Then, as we started forward, he said, “Touché.”

The Day

It shapes me,

I shape it.

Before sunrise,

After sunset.

Most times, it slips through my fingers without notice.

But sometimes, a piece becomes special as a rare jewel,

And finds home in my mind and heart.

Friday’s Wandering Thought

He pulled his car up to the stop sign and stopped. No cars were visible on the mile long slope in either direction. He pulled out, going left, heading toward town. A car pulled up on each road that he came up on, left and right side, and pulled in behind him after he passed. It was almost like they were waiting for him.

A paranoid person could really worry about that.

The Writing Moment

It’s been profitable but daunting work down in the novel mines. After chipping along with the pick for the right words, rich seams of plotting, story, character, and setting were found and worked out. Coming up each day, re-emerging into the real world, brought realizations of how deeply he was into it. Matters such as time, tasks, and news, were slipping past, undone, barely noticed. He promised himself, as soon as this novel is finished, he will take up other matters, work hard and catch up.

Yes, he makes the promise but other novels are out there, waiting to be written. He wonders if having a clone would help. It couldn’t be exact; the other fellow would need to be the one immersed in the real world, because he likes it too much, down in the novel mines.

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