One Would Imagine Futuristic Shoes to be More Durable

Tuesday I rounded the end of the canned fruit aisle in Walmart, and ran into my sister the ex-mayor's wife. Almost literally. I blame her, of course, for not keeping right as she piloted her cart. I don't see her very often, so I backed up my cart/walker to stand/lean by the mini plastic cups of diced fruit.

Sis said that she and the ex-mayor had been camping last weekend, even though the weather was cold and rainy. It's a campground they go to every year, which has a Halloween parade and costume contest.

"Oh! Did you dress up?"

"WELL! Let me tell you about it."

Seems there were various categories for the costume contest, and Niecey, daughter of Sis, decreed that they were going as The Jetsons. I don't know the assigned characters, but I'm assuming that Ex-Mayor was George, because Sis was Jane His Wife. Which leaves Niecy as Daughter Judy. Not sure if her hubby got His Boy Elroy, the maid Rosie, or the dog Astro. Nor which part Babe, now 4 years old, got to play. Anyhoo...Sis went on to fill me in on more pertinent details, about HER. She IS my sister, you know. It's all about US.

"I found a purple shirt, extra big, so I could put a hula hoop in the bottom. I found some purple tights. But I didn't have any purple shoes. Ex-Mayor got to digging through my closet, and pulled out a pair of Bass shoes. They're not cheap, you know. But he said I never wear them, and he was going to spray-paint them purple. He went off to the garage, where for some reason, we had a can of purple spray paint just sitting around. I have no idea why.

We got to the campground, and put up our Halloween lights, and then started getting into costume. We were supposed to walk around the campground in our group, for the parade. I was standing outside, helping others with last-minute stuff, and it started sprinkling. Like I said, I was getting other people ready, and not really paying attention, but it seemed like my shoes were getting looser. When I took a step, I looked down, and the main part of the shoe was peeling away from the sole! Ex-Mayor said I was making a big deal about it, but he got some white tape and wrapped it around the uppers and the sole. I didn't like my purple shoes looking like they had white stripes, but Ex-Mayor said it looked like something from The Jetsons' time.

The parade started, and we walked around the campground, waving. The rain was still coming down. Then I took a step, and my heel fell off! They were clunky heels, and the soles were not flat, but kind of wavy. Lucky for me, I guess, that my OTHER heel came off right after that. I had to keep walking around that campground with the rest of the Jetsons, because of the contest. I told Ex-Mayor that it felt like I was walking on a bed of nails, from where the heels came off. Of course he said I was making a big deal, and that I was fine. THEN I noticed that with each step I took, I was leaving a little bit of my sole behind! The whole thing was disintegrating! I finished with only the toe area, where it was taped the best.

In the group section of the costume contest, we made Final Three. Our competition was the Spice Girls, which was a group of husbands wearing red aprons, each with a different spice on it. And the Bud Lights, a group of wives, wearing Bud Light t-shirts and visors for flip tops, each walking in a little compartment like they were in a beer carton.

THE JUDGES WERE TWO TEENAGE BOYS! I figured we were out of luck. I said, 'You guys probably don't even know who The Jetsons ARE!' And the one kid said, 'I know who The Jetsons are! I'm EIGHTEEN!' But the other judge only looked about 12, and he didn't say anything. They didn't announce who got 2nd and 3rd place, but the SPICE GIRLS won! They were the worst! Even people standing around watching told us, 'You got screwed.' 

The two judges were laughing, and they said, 'Well, we know which group MADE THEIR OWN COSTUMES!' And then we found out that the two judges were kids of people in the Spice Girls and the Bud Lights."

Okay. Sis had me laughing out loud at her re-tell. It loses a little something by being filtered through my fingertips. We were making a spectacle of ourselves in Walmart. At least other shoppers gave us a wide berth, rather than deciding that they immediately needed something on a shelf we were standing by, which is usually what happens if I stop to talk to somebody.

It was a pleasant reunion. My favorite part being the line: "With each step I took, I was leaving a little bit of my sole behind."