“Do I need to buy you a new pair of shoes?” asked an old friend the other day.
Admittedly, as I age, I have noticed a decline in my appearance. I auctioned the other evening in what several commented was “rather drab” attire. I had ventured forth to check on my latest boating project. A new gigging boat, to replace my sixteen-year-old one that I ignorantly totaled this spring.
I was wearing a nice pair of Ariat’s I had purchased a mere three or four years ago. Great shoes that had been cut too close, so all the seams had started coming apart. Not enough material to re-sew. Still, extremely comfortable, and I was headed home to clean some equipment. Didn’t wish to stain a better pair.
Hence the look. Hence the question. Or offer, for the gentleman asking probably would have purchased me a new pair if I really had a need. For one, he’s a good guy. For another, he had watched my “cheap” gigging boat go from an estimated fifteen-grand to well over twenty. My new boat will have underwater “back-up” lights mounted at the stern. And floor-lights. Lots of storage. You know—gigging essentials!
Much like the boat it is replacing, it will serve several purposes. One, debris removal from our streams. That is why all the storage. Tools. Shovels and prybars. Cutters and come-a-longs. Trash bags. First-Aid kits. That old boat hauled a lot of trash over the years.
Then, river fishing. So, an aerated live-well. Rod storage, including protective tubes, for eight rods. Room for a trolling motor—down the road (read next spring). And, of course, gigging.
There is actually money left over for me to buy my own shoes. Even already have picked up a pair of Twisted X casual lace-up boots and a pair of On Cloud tennis shoes. They will work nicely. Eventually. DM can save his money. As will the new boat. Perhaps shortly.
I wish I could have these shoes fixed. I wish I could have had my old camouflage jonboat fixed. I like old things.
A rifle shouldered so many times it comes up and acquires the target from muscle memory alone. A shotgun that does likewise. Boots that lace up “just right” and take me silently through the woods. A jacket that is snug against the wind and cold let allows me room to swing an axe or strike a flint.
A book, cover worn from being handled for decades. Characters that seem like family. A knife, with the blade smaller from the years of being whet against a sharpening-stone. A compass that has spent many days hung around my neck; always pointing me to true north and enabling be to avoid being lost.
And old friends. People that really know us and care for us anyway. People with whom we have shared our fears and weaknesses. People that we know will be there when we need them. Sometimes are there even before we know of the need. Or at least before we are comfortable acknowledging it.
No, I don’t need a new pair of shoes. Unless you can get me a “new “old pair. But, just like getting a new friend, you cannot get an “old” one.
Old shoes wear out. Sadly, sometimes old friends drift away. We can polish our shoes. Keep them clean and oiled. Friends, we can treasure. Let them know we know they are there. Treat them as we enjoy being treated. Maybe even offer to buy them some new shoes.
