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2008 Story Set
| Date: September 4, 2008 When I was a kid, in grade school, I not only had horrible-looking glasses, and my hair cut off by a stepfather used to buzz-cutting fellow sailors, but I also had to wear "corrective" shoes. Ugly things. I had to go into the shoe store - they had xray machines that showed if the shoe was a proper fit (they don't use them anymore - they were dangerous) and I had clunky ugly shoes. I think I had them because my mother forced my father to add that to the child support. That and a new coat every year. By the time I was a teen-ager and needed to have a little money, she was spending my child support on brothers and sisters that belonged to my stepfather. There was a doll-house when I was 16. (I never saw it after Christmas.) And a dorky pink sweater set (skirt and top) when pink is the last color a big-boned teenager should be wearing. So is a sweater dress. I wore it anyway - with the shoes. I was a sight. I wore the shoes with other dresses from my aunts. (Hand-me-down Skin- tight adult wear when everyone else was in poodle skirts. The boys would roll their eyes.) I finally got to make a couple of poodle skirrts in 4-H and got some petticoats (we wore lots of frothy pettycoats so the skirts would stand out). I had a white blouse and a scarf. And lo and behold, my sensible shoes became saddle-shoes. Cammoflauge. The harm had long been done. I was what people refer to as a loner. I was better off by myself in my own world. I dreamed of becoming a writer. At the end of High-School I got loafers. With nickles in them - For calling home if you got stranded. (Phone calls were just a dime then.) I had heels for Church. (We wore suits to Church - and hats.) I was sent to the prom with a charm bracelet with a dollar charm - break it for emergiencies. I am sitting here at work years later, not in sandals, or heels, or boots (well, it is 100 degrees), I am wearing SAS loafers (sans nickels - or quarters - I don't think it's a pocket anymore - you'd have to glue the coin in place) with $800 orthodics in them. Corrective shoes. I pronate. We have a word for it now. They look good with black trouser socks and black slacks. ho ha. I still dream about becoming a writer. |
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