Hayter for March 26,
2023
“The Good the Bad
and the Ugly of Life’s Phases”
It’s weird the different phases one goes through. Phases? Stages? The things that deal with the taste of foods, preference of TV shows, health concerns, sleeping tendencies… stuff like that.
Some of our phases brought about improvements in our lives. Some have become great embarrassments. While I would appreciate information on your life’s phases, I’ve only got time for a few of mine. I’m currently in my selfish phase.
My favorite change of life came about when my feet stopped growing. That was probably your 18th favorite. It’s crazy that our feet stop growing, but men’s ears turn huge, hair disappears but shows up in ears, nose and places you can’t see. Those are examples of negative stages in life.
Foot stagnation is a great stage of life. It’s best explained with an example of the best pair of shoes I ever owned. It was a $3.50 pair of black Keds high-top tennis shoes. I don’t know what possessed Mom to buy me the pair.
Each September, Dennis and I would each
get a new pair of tennis shoes for school. Dennis got a great pair of low-top Converse
All Star tennis shoes. They were for real athletes. My athleticism was
disputable, so I got a pair of high-top Keds. I was as proud as a kid who
didn’t know the difference between Keds and Converse.
By the end of the school year, my high-toppers were still in great shape. So unlike the no-name two dollar pair
that Mom used to get us at Globe. By the end of summer, my Keds still had
plenty of tread and not a rip in ‘em. I needed no new shoes, nor wanted any at
the beginning of school that year. Or so I thought.
During the summer, I began to notice that my shoes were getting tighter. I had no idea that Keds would make a tennis shoe that would shrink. Mom took the blame. She told me that she shouldn’t have bought me an expensive pair of shoes that actually fit. She told me that my feet had grown, and that now she would have to buy me another pair of cheap Globe shoes for school.
Those Keds stayed in the closet for two years. I just couldn’t bring myself to throw them away. Maybe one day, they would fit again. I was dumber than dirt. Mom was somewhat smarter. It took me two weeks to realize that she had given my Keds away to some lucky duck. I assume she took them to Goodwill, because I never saw any of the neighborhood small-footed kids wearing my Keds.
Right now, I’ve got 16 pairs of shoes on the floor of my small section of the closet. I haven’t worn some of them for over 25 years. I’ve got two pairs of tennis shoes, one of which has a sole with worn-out tread. If I put them on and tried to skip from the kitchen to the bedroom, I would slip on our vinyl plank flooring and fracture my rear and one of my elbows.
I’d get rid of tread less shoes, but
they still fit. You know why? My feet stopped growing! -- Stay with me here. --
Each pair of my 16 pairs of shoes still fit me. I’ve got a pair of old, worn,
dusty-looking cowboy boots. I bought them second-hand, for my roles in a few of
Chuck Walker’s Westerns. I only got killed with my boots on twice. Today, the
only place I could wear them is either at a carnival or another Western.
I’ve given away a lot of my
clothing. Not underwear or socks. Nobody seems to want them. I did grow out of
a bunch of shirts and pants, and swim trunks. For whatever reason, the girth of
my body continues to grow. While my closet is still crammed with clothes that I
can no longer wear, I have trouble giving them away because I might one day
lose weight. Of course, when I do, the shirts will be so far out of style that
I’ll be laughed at every time I walk into HEB. I don’t care if you’ve got
something hanging off the tip of your nose people won’t tell you. But, if
you’re clothes are out of style they’ll laugh and point at you. – Maybe that
only happens to me.
While I have trouble getting rid of my
clothes, I have learned to give away tools, games, furniture, lawnmowers, and
autos. Even my only bicycle. I had a 24-inch J.C. Higgins that I got when I was
in the third grade. When I was in high school it failed to survive our family’s
move from Camille Street to Harris. All because Dad asked, “When’s the last
time you rode this?” Dad was never in a good mood at the time of a move. Like
us kids were.
As an adult, I am now in my get-rid-of-stuff phase. Practically all of our board games, Checkers, Monopoly, Chinese Checkers, Sorry, Trivial Pursuit… Some of them had missing parts and others were tossed during our residential moves. Moving creates a great opportunity to re-access the importance of stuff. In other words, I owe my dad an apology.
There are obviously several hundred phases, I’ve yet to mention. A few are tied to bodily functions. I saved that for now because I knew I wouldn’t have time to mention it. So, that’s pretty much it. Life is full of changes… and then you die. Fortunately, not yet. Hang in there.
By the way, I recommend you don’t get any cosmetic surgery, because it doesn’t seem to wear well. Had I had the money I would’ve had something done with my nose. The kids in HEB would go crazy.
end
No comments:
Post a Comment