A Bit of Local Shoe Legend

Yes, the Heaton family is oddly preoccupied with shoes.  Or more broadly, as Heather pointed out recently, 'what goes on below the knee.'  This because our oldest is not only particular about his shoes but about his socks as well.  I must say, I am particular about socks also.  I've been known to get so irritated with a pair of dress socks that I've gone to the store in the middle of the day to buy some more comfortable ones and thrown the old ones away.

With the kind of socks you might wear with tennis shoes (sneakers for you Yankees), Tucker and I face a divergence of opinion.  This is, in fact, how it all got started this morning.  On a normal day, Tucker comes down looking like this.

It's not the best picture but you can see the athletic shirt, shorts, shoes, and socks pulled up to his knees.  I take umbrage with the socks.  Why?  Because I don't think it looks very good.  It reminds me of the days - oddly enough - when I was about the same age and we wore goofy stuff.  Like THESE..

Over time, we began to make fun of people who wore these socks.  In fact, they're so abhorrent, I really question whether they were ever stylish to begin with.  And don't get me started on the length of the shorts our parents put us in.  Bordering on profane.  (speaking of bordering on profane, be careful if you're googling "long striped socks")

After awhile, as fashion tends to go, the only remaining vestiges of long, dorky socks was the occasional old guy mowing his grass.  Bonus points if the poor old guy was wearing long, DARK socks.  The other thing I'll say is they make me uncomfortable just looking at them.  Who wants to wear dark, long socks in the summertime?  Sigh.

Fast forward to today.  Tuck comes down with Nike shirt, Under Armour shorts (another pet peeve - mixing the brands - but I'll let that one go) and "no-show" socks.  I look at him.

Me:  Now THAT'S a good-looking outfit!
He:  Why?
Me:  Love those socks!
He:  (eye roll)

See, I really don't think I'll ever give in to societal pressure on the socks.  If I am the last guy on earth wearing the short socks, I think I'm fine with it.  And if they stop making them, I guess I'll have to bring out the scissors.  And now all of a sudden, I understand the old guy on the lawn mower.  He and I are one.  Because he doesn't CARE what you think of his fashion sense ... he's found something that works and he's going to ride it out.  (literally) And if you don't like it, TOUGH.

So now the family sits with rapt attention as I regale them with the story of how my good friend, Coach Cantrell, forever changed the path of footwear.  At least here, locally.  The story begins with a beautiful thing.  The classic Boatshoe.

These are Eastlands in the picture but I think I remember them being Bass, primarily.  And you HAD to tie the laces in little squiggle knots at the end.  And wasn't this around the same time we tight-rolled our jeans?  Makes me want to watch a Molly Ringwald movie, just thinking about it.  (Cue U2 music)

Like every kid in civilization, Cantrell asked his Dad for a pair.  And after much deliberation, (and if you don't know Mr. Cantrell, he doesn't easily give in to such superfluity) he came home with a pair.  Only to hear Cantrell tell it, they were of an unacceptably light hue.  In other words, they were knock-offs.  Cantrell protests and his dad puts it out there, "Take it or leave it."  Cantrell decides that rather than wear these fraudulent shoes to school, he will wear the only other shoes he has.  His indoor soccer shoes.  A calculated risk that paid off, big time.

"Kids, what do you think happened next?  Other people started wearing indoor soccer shoes and before long, the trend was accepted, far and wide.  And the rest is history."

I imagine this is how the long sock thing got started up again.  Some cool kid's mom went to the store to buy socks and accidentally bought the long ones.  She refused to take them back, insisting that he "deal with it" - probably not realizing the rammifications of her obstinance.  And that the rest of us would have to endure a time we'd thought was long past ... believing, hoping that these images were forever confined to old grainy photographs only brought forth with the most malicious intent to embarrass us.

How wrong we were.