Friday, September 11, 2009

Saying Goodbye To An Old Friend: My Tennis Shoes: A Nevin Barich Blog Experience

Last weekend, I said goodbye to an old friend.

My friend and I had been through the wars together the past few years. We ate together, drank together, watched sports together, played video games together, laughed together, cried together, counseled friends together, traveled together...hell, I thought one day we were going to die together.

But sadly, my friend passed on before me.

My good friend...the tennis shoes.

My tennis shoes. For the past three years, they've seen me through thick and thin. See, women traditionally are the gender that buys tons of shoes, but men are the gender that really bond with theirs. Our tennis shoes are kind of like dogs. We appreciate them for their kindness, their warmth, their loyalty. We don't just wear them once and take them to the pound. We wear them constantly, every day, every hour, and see them through their final days until the sad day when we have to put them to sleep.

In my case, that sad day was last week. We were packing up to head back home from our honeymoon in Hawaii when my wife Ramona noticed a big tear in one of the shoes. We had done a rather brutal hike up a rocky trail the other day that no doubt proved to be too much for my old friend. So, seeing that they were literally falling apart at the seams, I agreed to leave them in the hotel trash can.

And a part of me was left in that trash can too. :-(

Men everywhere understand where I'm coming from.

Now: Women reading this may be asking how a man can wear a disgusting pair of tennis shoes day in and day out even as the wear and tear is apparent? Well let me ask you this: Do you put a dog down at the first sign of trouble? If a loved one is put on life support, is your first instinct to pull the plug and watch him or her die? If your star pitcher walks a couple of batters, do you automatically take him out of the game?


Men stick by their tennis shoes, like they stood by for us. Our tennis shoes loved us, and we our tennis shoes. Our tennis shoes never turned their back on us, so what right do I have to do so?

When the going gets tough, a man and his tennis shoes work through the rough times.

Ramona brought me a new pair of tennis shoes. My new tennis shoes are gray, my old tennis shoes were white. My new tennis shoes are Sketchers, my old tennis shoes were a no-name brand. My new tennis shoes retail for $80, my old tennis shoes served me faithfully for a mere $20.

I'm sure me and my new tennis shoes will get along. But still... will take time.

Right now, my old tennis shoes are on my mind.

Wherever they are, I hope their suffering has ended.

Farewell, old friend.



And now for this week's:


I was in 7-11 the other day getting a Big Gulp when I saw the guy ahead purchasing a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

A dude buying cereal.

At 7-11.

That's just odd.


Carlos said...

About your sneakers, move on. . . Who cares?

P.S. Someone buying cereal at 7-11 is not odd; he could have done it out of convenience of not wanting to go to a supermarket to buy only one thing. Who knows. . .
What is odd is a grown man listening to Ace of Base!

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