Playing Fair and Being Kind

The difference between a fairy tale and a sea-story, as I’ve always been instructed, is the fairy tale begins with “Once upon a time…” whereas the sea story begins “This ain’t no shit now…”. I’ve been known to spin a few in my time. Tonight I was sent on an errand to the shoe store to find a pair of boots for Naomi’s son. He’d purchased a pair but they proved to be a bit big. I was directed to get a pair of the same style but one half size smaller. The store was open until 9 P.M. so I had ample time to perform the task.

I failed to find the preferred size. That style of boot was not made in half sizes. I headed back home. While I was driving along Cerrillos Road I happened to remember the story about the man who suffered great throbbing migraine headaches for which no doctor seemed to be able to successfully treat him. The man went to specialists in several fields of medicine with no relief.

He suffered for years. Eventually he ended up in the office of a neurosurgeon who, after examining him for several weeks and thousands of dollars in co-pays, suggested to the man that he would need to have a castration operation. The man balked and refused. At first, that is. After a few more days of excruciating pain and all the attendant side affects the man returned to the doctor to schedule the procedure to remove his testicles. Several days after the surgery he had no further migraines. He was relieved of all the headaches and tension. He was pleased with the result. The only problem now was that he suffered a depression due to no longer having testicles.

I got onto this story because the cause of pain in the case of the shoes is similar to an event in my life that caused me great discomfort. In the mid seventies the road running phenomenon was taking off. Shoe stores that stocked running shoes dotted the landscape. Every strip mall and neighborhood housed a specialty shoe store for Nike, Adidas, New Balance, and Tiger.

I was beginning to feel my mortality sneaking up along side of me and I too joined others at parks, beaches, field houses to begin jogging and then advancing to the 5K’s, 10K’s, and marathons. I was stationed in Southern California and most days you could find me running the roads or beaches for miles each day. I was having a good time regaining a fitness I hadn’t enjoyed for years. There was one problem however. A condition known as ‘runner’s toe’ kept nagging my workouts. ‘Runner’s Toe’ is where the large toe on either foot hits the pavement or running surface so hard and frequently that the toe is bruised and the nail turns black and blue and eventually falls off. It was a fairly common occurrence for long distance runners. I continued to run however.

The man with the depression who had no testicles was not improving with time. He had begun to lose friends because of his condition. People were put into a funk just by hanging out with him. He couldn’t help himself and his friends were all wandering away. Thing were getting desperate for him. He decided to visit his surgeon for advice. The surgeon in turn referred him to a psychiatrist who specialized in depression and other mood disorders. The man kept his appointment. After several visits the doctor suggested that the man might try a strategy of trying to elevate his mood by buying new clothes and getting out into the world again. The man was skeptical but he thought it might help him to change his attitude. The doctor gave him the name of a well known haberdashery in the neighborhood.

The depressed man found the store with no problem and told the haberdasher what he wanted to do. He wanted to buy new outfits. All new clothes. He wanted to be dressed from the skin out. The haberdasher agreed to help him with all the fittings and selections of patterns and colors. The man felt better already. They walked through the store getting a feel of the racks of clothes and shoes and socks and ties and underwear. With each article of clothing the haberdasher would ask the man his preferences and then help him decide. The two were working well together. The haberdasher knew his stuff. He could guess the sizes of shirts, the arm lengths, collar size and each time he was on the button with his estimates.

Finally, after selecting shirts, pants, socks, shoes, ties, cuff links, belts and other accouterments the haberdasher asked the man what size underwear he needed. The man responded that he wore small size jockey shorts. The haberdasher screwed up his face in disagreement.

“No, no”, he said with mock alarm. “You must wear size medium or even a large.”

The man insisted on size small for true comfort.

“No, no”, the haberdasher repeated. “If you wear size small your testicles will be mashed together causing you to have severe headaches and eventually migraines”.

Well this brings us to my ‘runner’s toe’ situation. I entered one of the many aforementioned running shoe stores looking to buy a pair of newer style togs. There was a new place, “Second Sole”, in Bonita that was suggested to me. They would replace the soles after one cycle of wear. I found the store easily and happily entered. The walls were covered with little shelves exhibiting the multitude of styles and colors. A salesman arrived and asked me if he could be of service. I told him what I was looking for.

“I think we can do something for you”, he said. “What size are you?”

When I joined the Navy I wore size 10 ½. I’d always worn size 10 ½ after that.

“Ten and a half”, I said.

He screwed his face up and said, “No, no. You can’t wear a ten and a half. If you ran in a ten and a half shoe your big toenails would turn black and blue and then fall off.”

I listened to him and finally bought the right size. 12. I never lost another toenail.

Have a great day. Peace out.

G. M. Goodwin

17 October 2017