I purchased them at a Bealls department store in Kingsville, Texas back in June for about $50. I didn't even try them on. I just looked at the size number on the shoebox and paid for them. I knew they would fit just fine. They were going with me on vacation later that month. At the time I had no idea that we would go so far together in so short a time. They were with me when I took my first ride on a New York City subway from Queens to Columbus Circle near Central Park. We posed for a picture in front of The Plaza, and then later got lost in Central Park looking for the statue of Baldo. We found him eventually. That afternoon we lunched at Lindy's on 7th and West 53rd then walked another eight blocks to stand in the center of Times Square. They never complained.
We boarded a flight to Milan the next day and once through customs took the bus from Malpensa to Stazione Centrale, standing for what seemed forever at Platform 15 waiting for the train to Venice. So comfortable a pair of shoes that I never once gave my feet a thought. Once we pulled into Stazione Santa Lucia we quickly made our way through the crowded train station and out the glass doors to stand in the bright Italian sun with the Grand Canal before us and the green dome of Chiesa di San Simeon Piccolo welcoming me back after a nine year absence. The shoes, of course, hadn't been with me back then for that first visit, but I quickly walked them around that most wonderful of cities. We strolled through a Piazza San Marco thick with fluttering pigeons, took a ride on a gondola, and crossed to the Lido to gaze into the distant blue haze on the horizon of the mysterious Adriatic. Neither they or I had any idea how much further we would go together only two months later. Before long we would cross the Pacific and walk the streets of Tokyo, stand before the Great Buddha at Kamakura and dig our heels at the foot of Mount Fuji. When you share so much in such a compressed time frame you can form a very strong bond.Maybe it was just too much for them to handle; the walking I mean. They have been on my feet every single day since I first set foot on Japan. I have tough feet, hardy really. They're pretty to look at, quite attractive for a man of my years, but hard on shoes. There's a great deal of compression on a size eight shoe from a 180-pound load.
This most dependable of shoes deserved more than a cold and unfeeling toss into the trash bin. I slipped on my new pair of "Air Monarchs", manufactured in Communist Vietnam, and took a drive out to the water's edge. With Tokyo Bay as a backdrop I gave the old pair my thanks and said good-bye. I will never forget them.
