New Sneakers

When I was growing up, we didn't have a lot of money.  That meant that new clothes were a bit of a rarity.  And, when you did get something new, it was almost never the same brand that all the other kids were wearing.

Up until I was in high school, each August I used to go shopping with my mother for a back-to-school "outfit."  An outfit most likely meant a new shirt with color-coordinated corduroy pants.  I still remember one pair of new pants that my mother picked out in one of my last elementary school years.  They were Wranglers from Sears.  Better yet, they were rust-colored.  I think I wore them once and then stuffed them as far back in my closet as they would go.  They may still be there for all that I know.

I remember another time when I needed a new pair of sneakers.  This was 7th grade but I remember it vividly.  At the time, everyone's sneakers were Nike's, Adidas, or Converse.  I, of course, had a pair of cat-heads.

I have no idea why my sneakers were called cat-heads.  I just know that's what junior high kids in Elmira called any sneakers that weren't one of those name brands.  Nobody wanted to have cat-heads.  But, that was my fate at the time.

Soon enough, my latest pair of cat-heads had worn through.  So, my mom took me downtown one evening for a new pair of sneakers.  I was determined not to get another pair of cat-heads.  I couldn't imagine getting a brand new pair and sporting them in the halls of Ernie Davis Junior High School.  It would have been the ultimate humiliation.

Anyway, my mom took me straight to a shoe store that sold absolutely no name-brand sneakers.  I was in turmoil inside.  How was I going to convince her that none of these were right?  While I tried to figure that out, she had the salesperson pull a couple pairs of shiny new white cat-heads out for me to try.  I sullenly began to try them on.  Just as I got my first foot in, who should walk in the store but some girl from my school.  I remember to this day that her first name was Laurel but I've forgotten her last name.  I think it was Smith.  Even if I'm wrong, you have to admit that Laurel Smith is such an Elmira name.

So, there I was.  I had one foot squarely in a new cat-head.  The store was so small that there was no way Laurel couldn't see me.  She was with her mom.  That didn't stop her from looking at me, seeing the cat-head on my foot, and loudly pronouncing "Meow."

That was it.  There was no way in hell I could let my mother buy me those cat-heads.  I couldn't face an entire school day of meow's from my classmates.  I can't remember if I said anything or if my mom could just see the look on my face.  It was probably the latter.  In any event, before I knew it, we were in Harold's Army-Navy, the only cool store in downtown Elmira.  My mother walked right over to the sneaker section with me and we pulled down a pair of Nike low-top canvas shoes.  They were the cheapest Nike's in the store but, by God, I was going to get them.  Within minutes, we were out the door, new Nike's in hand.  It was at that moment that I decided that there actually was a God.

The next day, I saw Laurel in school.  "I saw you trying on those cat-heads," she said with a smirk as she looked down at my new Nike's.  That was it.  Nothing more.  She just wanted to be sure that I knew that she knew.  Isn't middle school awesome?

You know, I had an entirely different story in mind when I sat down to write this.  It had to do with clothes but, somehow, this came out.  I'm not sure how that happened.  I'll get to the other story eventually.