The age of keeping it new

April 5, 2007

Dear Patty,

I don't know how it happened. In my 20s one pair of street shoes and a pair of tennis shoes took care of anything my feet wanted to do. Now I'm channeling Imelda Marcos.

In the TV show "Sex and the City" Carrie Bradshaw was addicted to shoes. She claimed to have spent more than $40,000 to be shod by designers. The former Philippines first lady was believed to have owned 3,000 pairs of them and opened a museum to display the masterpieces.

Part of the reason for all the shoes is a new interest in fitness. You have to have two pairs of running shoes (to give one a breather), two pairs of tennis shoes (one white, one black), two pairs of golf shoes (one is usually soaked in dew) and a pair of cycling shoes. Add three pairs of black shoes (some dressy for Oscar nights, some casual), three pairs of brown shoes (ditto), two pairs of street sneakers for Saturday mornings, a pair of Crocs, water shoes for the river, and flip flops for the beach, and the total approaches 30.

Middle age changes lots of things. Odd that my need to have shoes for every occasion would be one of them.

Actually, aging has changed my attitudes toward lots of things. Music, for instance. Bruce Springsteen and The Clash used to do it for me. Nothing could be finer than to blast "London Calling" through the house on a Saturday morning. Now it's Sting lite and U2's greatest hits.

People seem to be like tuning forks that vibrate to a different frequency as they age. I have a new appreciation for silence.

My taste in beverages has evolved from any kind of beer in my 20s to Guinness and pinot noir. T-shirts have been exchanged for polos, psychedelic light shows for paintings and sculptures. The Volkswagens that never ran became a Honda that always does.

I used to be absolutely sure that people whose beliefs were different from my own were just wrong. Now I'm pretty sure that just see the world in a different way than I do, and vive la difference.

Middle age didn't change my taste in women. I used to like girls who had a wild streak. You never knew what they might do or say. DC's wild streak is a mile wide, though you wouldn't know by looking at her. You only know it by knowing her. She's right at home in a zoo.

In my youth, getting in shape was never a care. I ate what I wanted, rarely did anything that could be called exercise and never gained a pound. In junior high I stopped for a milkshake at a burger place after school every day in the vain hope I would gain some weight.

Now a little carelessness can put a big middle in middle age.

The newest phase in my quest for fitness is a spinning class. We sit on stationary bicycles as the instructor guides us through an imaginary ride up and down hills and along flats. Nothing is imaginary about the level of exertion, though.

A few days ago as the instructor, Amy, pushed us further and further, the class collectively groaned. "If you always do what you always do, you'll always get what you always get," Amy yelled as she pumped her pedals.

In middle age, routines are comfortable. But memory-loss research suggests that altering your routines can keep your mind from going to sleep. Instead of always doing the same thing in the same order when you awake, reverse the order. Brush your teeth last or first. Drive a different route to work. Keep it new. That goes for physical activity as well. Heck, get some new shoes.

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.