Skip to main content

Like an old shoe

   So I was waiting for UPS to deliver my plus-size paisley swimsuit for the third day in a row and I was completely deflated to find it didn’t arrive … again. If my mother taught me anything it was that the squeaky wheel gets the grease and my time is money, so I did what she would do and called the “company.” The girl on the other end of the phone was as sweet as Log Cabin syrup and couldn’t figure out what went wrong. We delved a little further into the mystery only to discover that I had given my new address in full, except I had used the old street name from Syracuse. Gee, those darn UPS guys can’t seem to find the same street in Vineyard Haven, Massachusetts. What a bunch of chowda heads. So I guess the rest of the beach-goers will have to wait a few more days before I make my entrance.
   You would think that after that little setback I’d maybe lay off the online shopping for a while. Right now I’m staring at my “Persistence prevails when all else fails” poster, which we lived by at my old job. I’m not a quitter.
   I decided a few weeks ago that I need to have the fashionable and sensible Dansko clogs. I need these because everyone else on the Island has them. I guess the rest of the women on the planet have finally found out what I knew 35 years ago; a clog is about the most comfortable shoe a girl can wear. Oh sure I’ve been ridiculed for wearing clunky footwear but I never let it get me down. And now they’re everywhere you look.
    There’s a little bit of a sticking point though. I believe they retail for just under $120. Now I love a good shoe, I’m wearing my Birkenstocks as I type this for God’s sake. The problem is that I can justify having only one pair of shoes over $100 at a time. I can’t possibly have another, even though my feet are shaped like Fred Flinstone’s and I pay my husband in cookies for a good foot rub.
   My mission now is to find a Dansko knock-off in my price range. This led me to another revelation about my current life: How did I get from grabbing some random loafers at K-mart to typing “comfortable shoes for women” in Amazon’s search box? Have I gotten that old?  I even said aloud the other day to my husband, “You know, my mom ended up wearing orthopedic shoes when she worked at the post office,” like it was a good idea and I might give it a whirl myself. I don’t know where this stuff comes from. It’s like I’ve thrown the towel in and I didn’t even know I was carrying one. Whew.
   Just when I began to think I should maybe Google “psychiatrists on Martha’s Vineyard,” it occurred to me that there’s a freedom to saying, “Oh to hell with it. I’m going to wear some ugly-assed shoes so my feet don’t hurt. I’m going to quit dying my hair because it feels like a wire brush from all the chemicals. I’m going to wear socks with my sandals in the fall because they are the only shoes that don’t hurt my feet. I’m going to wear shorts when it’s hot even if they do ride up my thighs when I walk. I’m going to wear my hair in a ponytail every day even though I’m 51 because I can’t afford a haircut on this island. I’m going to wear huge clothes because I have never been able to tolerate anything too tight. Hey, I’m just going to give up and do what I want. Hell, yes.”
   Wasn’t it James Brown who said, “Mmmmm, I feel good”? I always liked him. I bet he had some crazy shoes. 

   These are my new shoes. They're good shoes. They won't make you rich like me, they won't make you rebound like me, they definitely won't make you handsome like me. They'll only make you have shoes like me. That's it. - Charles Barkley



Popular posts from this blog

Getting well takes baby steps

So I’ve had what you could call a case of the pneumonia. It was not pleasant. And to top it off it happened in San Antonio, Texas. Like I wasn’t sweating before the fever.
I was there to see my niece Michelle, who by the way kept asking me, “Are you going to write about this?” which is funny because she’s a writer too. I naturally said, “Oh no, of course not.” And here we are.
Thinking back, the best part of that trip teeters between meeting my two great-nephews, Oliver and Isaac, and having a couple of beers with their Yaya, my sister, who I haven’t had beers with in decades. Like I said, it’s a toss-up. There’s also the fact that I got to spend time with my niece’s husband Alex. He’s a hardcore military guy. He teaches other military guys how to be military policemen. I’m not going to gamble on writing anything about him. He’s from Wisconsin though, which I like. And he likes to cook, which I also like.
I thought to myself before I ever left my nice cocoon of Martha’s Vineyard to tra…

Just sitting around doing jack

I think my blog may have been hijacked. I haven’t written in forever because I’ve been writing …for my job, which may mean I’m no longer a “jobless goddess.” I may just be a regular goddess.
I love the word jack. I could use that all day. Whatever, hopefully those who want to read the blog will read. Back to jack. It’s a cool freaking word. I had a brother-in-law named Jack who pretty much personified the word “cool.” He’s gone too soon and missed by everybody.
There’s Billy Jack, get back Jack, Jack Sprat, Jack Nicholson, Jack Berry, Jack in the Box, Jumping Jack Flash. And my favorite, a little ditty my sister introduced me to, “Jack Mother.” This is a something you say when someone cuts you off on the highway. “I’m sorry officer, I was cut off by that Jack Mother in the blue Subaru.”
My brother Steve has a friend named Jack. I thought he was about the greatest thing ever when I was 12. Who are we kidding? I probably still do. Jackie was hilariously funny and I loved to watch my brot…

Little women

I’m getting a real kick out of my co-workers these days. I’m working with about a half dozen young women — young being the operative word.
They’re all so freaking competent it kills me. They can write like it’s nobody’s business, they all take great photos to go with their stories, and they almost always laugh at my jokes. I call them ‘the girls.’
They’re either about to go to university, just leaving university, or all done with it and on their way. They do yoga and eat a lot of avocados. We live on Martha’s Vineyard and none of them know who John Belushi is but they all know they should keep using the same plastic cup for take out iced coffee over and over and over again. If they see a bug, they think twice before killing it. Actually they leave it for me to kill because they couldn’t possibly… and they know I won’t hesitate.
We get along just fine the girls and me. Oh, there’s a little trouble when I insist on running the window air conditioner up in our second floor office —ramsha…