“My Shoes Will Last Forever,” an original essay by Brian Segal

Filed under: Regular Contributors, Brian Segal, Themes, Wheelchairman of the Board

My Shoes Will Last Forever

An original essay by Brian Segal

It may seem odd to be writing an essay about shoes. I have my reasons, though. I have one pair of boots to use in the winter, two pairs of dress shoes, and two pairs of Reebok’s classic running shoes-or, should I say, walking shoes. All of my footwear is in immaculate condition. While I may be a BIT obsessive about how I take care of my things [I used to be old school and use paste wax only, but I have since surrendered to liquid polish], that is not the reason why my shoes seem to last forever.

My winter boots were purchased three years ago. The casual onlooker might say they’ve been worn a half-dozen times or so. When you consider the furious, harsh winters we’ve had to deal with over the past few years in Quebec, my boots could be entered in a Winterwear Hall of Fame.

The same goes for my casual shoes. The Reebok outlet near us has a sale once a year. You basically can get two pairs of shoes for the price of one. A few years ago I took advantage of that, and bought two pairs of my aforementioned black classic Reeboks. About a week ago, I finally decided to take the second pair out of the box where they had rested since the day I purchased them. It wasn’t even necessary to dust them, since they had never even been removed from the box. [Note: And yes, I still wear the first pair I purchased; it's just that I thought the second pair might be getting lonely.]

About my two pairs of dress shoes: I don’t quite remember why I ever purchased a second pair, but I suppose that’s immaterial. Both pairs are in excellent, near-pristine condition. [If it sounds as if I'm trying to sell a used car, that is not the case.]

All this can be easily explained. My feet rarely touch the ground. For some years now, because of multiple sclerosis, I’ve been in a wheelchair. The tires on my wheelchairs have been changed because of wear far more often than my shoes. To paraphrase that great philosopher Nancy Sinatra, I guess you could say that my feet were just not made for walking.

I obviously don’t spend that much time thinking about my footwear. Styles of shoes can come and go, but that does not concern me very much. Shoes and boots serve their utilitarian purpose, but that’s about all.

From time to time, it’s been suggested to me that I take advantage of some shoe sale happening at one store or another. I do not take offense to the suggestion, but I usually find it rather humorous. I really don’t think I’ll ever have to go shopping for shoes again. I suppose if I was Imelda Marcos that might be a depressing thought. If I were to be depressed, though, it would be more about the fact that I am unable to walk…rather than being concerned about shoe styles. It has been a long time since rolling around in a wheelchair has bothered me. You get over it. Wheelchairs do have their advantages at times. You can bump into people at crowded places and get them to apologize to you. You do not have to make excuses for not going somewhere you would rather not be anyway. All you have to do is ask the magical question, “Is it wheelchair accessible?”

In all honesty, there’s one thing that I do miss very much. I used to enjoy fishing a great deal. While I did not do much of it, fly fishing was something I had come to enjoy a great deal. Wading into a stream wearing hip waders and standing and casting for trout was pure fun. Once, while living in northern British Columbia, I took advantage of the great fishing there and spent the day fishing a catch-and-release river with my brother.  Wearing chest waders, we spent from about seven in the morning to close to nine o’clock in the evening casting for steelhead trout. Because we were so far north at that time of the year, the days were so long we lost total track of time and ended up having to be hunted down by my wife and sister. That all seems so long ago. I gave those fishing boots away so long ago. But the memories still remain, and those I will never give up.

Before my thoughts start turning maudlin, perhaps I should go downstairs and check to see if my shoes need to be shined.

I always like to put my best foot forwards.

Regards,

Brian

PS – Trout season is open. Make sure your flies are tied.

.

Brian Segal is living in the country north of Montréal. He was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis about 18 years ago and, when asked, tells people he is retired (It sounds a lot better than telling people you are on disability insurance). He is happily married, no children, but one very friendly husky cross. He also has the good fortune of living in his own home, not a home.

.

Permalink / Comments