Sunday “Goin’ to Meetin’” Shoes

I'll bet if I think about it real hard, I could remember my first pair of shoes. Mama said they’d take me anywhere. She said they were my magic shoes – Forrest “Forrest” Gump. 

I can not remember my first pair of shoes. The first pair of shoes that I distinctly remember were a pair of Easter Sunday, “Goin’ to Meetin’” shoes. I got a new pair of shoes every Spring around Easter and a pair of boots (brogans) every Fall around school starting. Somewhere in there, there was a pair of tenner shoes for the Summer. 

Gone to the Dogs: A brief history of the Tenner Shoe

The reason I remember these Sunday “Goin’ to Meetin’” shoes so well is because they made good brakes. 

I had a skateboard that I couldn’t stand on to save my life. What I could do was to get to the top of a hill and lay belly-down on that skateboard. The slope of the hill took care of speed and momentum, and the toes of my new “Goin’ to Meetin’” shoes took care of braking and turning. 

There were a few ass-whoopin’s I got growing up that I remember. It took a while, but I learned a very specific lesson about shoes. Do not wear my good “Goin’ to Meetin’” shoes while belly-riding on a skateboard. The general idea of “not dragging the toes out of any shoes” was a point that I initially missed. Subsequent ass-whoopin’s eventually instilled that concept into my seven-year-old brain. 

I don't have a picture of my old worn-out shoes. What I do have is a picture of duct tape. Duct tape can fix anything except worn-out shoes and a sore backside. 

 

Toe-draggin’ braking 

Hide tanned to match. No sitting. 

Holey holy shoes


Peace, Y'all!

da6d

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