Blame it on Velcro

You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy!

Velcro’s deleterious effects on the shoe lace industry.

What am I talking about you ask?

I’m at my ten year old’s soccer game and some mom on the side line starts panicking.

“Bobby’s shoe is coming undone.”

So what I think to myself.

So What is not going to cut it in this flammable environment.

“Bobby’s shoe is coming undone,” she says again, this time with more alarm in her voice.

She stands from her folding chair and inches toward the sideline.

Her body is taught like a spandex attired cheetah.

What is she going to do, run into the game, I think to myself.

“Bobby tie your shoe,” she screams cupping her hands around her lips. She is one of these big chested moms and her voice billows across the field.

If people hadn’t noticed little Bobby’s shoe lace coming undone before they certainly knew it was an issue now.

Suddenly the show on the sideline is more interesting than the ten year old soccer game before me.

Momma clasping her hands and trying to telepathically communicate with little Bobby who is prancing and dancing and darting and dashing and all of it with a 2 foot shoe lace dragging behind his cleat like a garden snake that has been run over by a steam roller.

“Tie your shoe Bobby,” she screams again.

She turns to face the other mothers and fathers who are staring at her as if she has a big L on her forehead.

“He’s gonna trip with that shoe lace all undone,” she says in a Southern Accent thicker than cold maple syrup.

I understand the whole shoe lace untied thing, but would I actually stand up on the side line like a circus monkey and draw attention to myself?

It’s a shoe lace I say to myself pushing my ass firmly into my folding chair, trying to find my son whose shoe lace is double knotted I will let you know.

Meanwhile, Bobby’s mom is growing even more anxious. She is looking around like a wolverine, ready to rush the field.

“He doesn’t tie his shoes well,” she laments to no one in particular.

I laugh to myself because I know exactly how she feels.

God forbid your kid’s shoe lace unties during a sporting event, because kids now-a-days don’t know how to tie a shoe lace to save their lives.

If that double knot at the start of the game, God forbid, comes undone, then it’s crazy time.

We parents have to take the blame on this one, as do our pampered little kids. I mean come on, shouldn’t a ten year old know how to tie a shoe lace?

But I am just going to say it all ready; I also blame VELCRO.

That’s right. Velcro!

In today’s fast food, microwavable world; shoes come in three varieties. Shoe lace shoes we’ve covered.

That leaves, Slip em on styles like Crocks and Vans. This takes no more thought than a monkey peeling a banana for a kid. It’s fast and convenient, but it’s not building good foot wearing skills for the future.

The third option is the shoe that requires Velcro to fasten it. These are athletic shoes and sneakers and school shoes. If they can put Velcro on a shoe, they put Velcro on a shoe. A kid with the ability to set up a PlayStation multi-port can Velcro a shoe faster than it takes cherry cookies to disappear at a weight watchers convention.

While Velcro is a viable alternative to laces, they don’t build good skills for adulthood.

How many adults Velcro their Cole Hahn works shoes?

“Good bye honey; I’m off to work.”

“Oh baby, you forgot to Velcro your work shoes?”

“Thanks sugar. I might have fallen had you not said that.”

Can you even imagine that exchange? Doubtful.

But American grammar school kids don’t hesitate to force their feet into high end footwear that fasten tight with Velcro as the primary fastening mechanism.

That’s great and all till you are in the middle of a soccer field and your shoe lace looks like a piece of umbilical chord being dragged through the grass.

“Bobby tie your shoe, baby!”

I start chuckling, as I look at my own boy. He’s laced up good and tight I see. I can tie a double knot.

“Bobby’s mom needs to learn to double knot,” I whisper to the soccer dad to my right.

Just then, the ball goes out of bounds and there is a momentary time out on the field.

Bobby looks back at his momma with fear on his face. He looks like one of those guys coming off the troop carrier in a Spielberg movie, moments before a bullet wrizzles through the air.

He drops to one knee and starts to cross his laces. he looks around nervously.

The kid is trying to do calculus with matchsticks. His hands are big like Mickey Mouse and he can’t grip that tiny piece of lace. He has no clue as his fingers fumble around like a kid on his first date. Bobby looks around nervously, wiping his forehead. He looks like a cat burglar hiding in the closet.

His mom inches to the sideline. “You can do it baby. The rabbit goes around the post and then goes in the hole. Remember baby.”

I roll my eyes knowing if we have to scream out nursery rhymes to tie our shoes, this ship is sunk.

Bobby’s mom is clutching her hands as if she is praying to Jesus for divine shoe tieing intervention. She looks to the heavens as if Jesus himself is going to kick off his Velcro tied sandals and whisper in little Bobby’s ear.

It ain’t gonna happen. Not today it’s not.

Bobby’s shoe laces are all over the place. It looks like a plate of spaghetti on top of his shoe. The official places the ball on the ground and blows his whistle.

Bobby has a handful of lace and a face full of panic. There’s not a chance in hell he’s ready to go. The referee doesn’t care and bites down on his whistle.

I am starting to feel sorry for Bobby now as he wipes a tear away from his eye.

“Don’t worry baby.”

Suddenly big momma dashes onto the field. There is a murmur from the other parents, and the referee looks about as happy as a TSA guard when someone in line starts joking about bombs in their bag.

She gets to Bobby and quickly ties the boy’s shoe. It takes a few seconds, and she runs back to the sideline.

Parents from both squads clap in unison as if a goal has been scored. I can’t help but clap myself, knowing this could just as easily be me.

Bobby is up and the game is on. With a freshly tied shoe, the kid is a pretty good soccer player.

The mother is panting from the short run back to the sideline. She is a little embarrassed as she takes her chair.

“He just hasn’t figured out how to tie his laces,” she says.

Other parents nod in agreement. We all understand. We are all glad that it wasn’t our kid’s lace that came undone.

God knows it could have been any one of us rushing out there amidst the stares.

It is our fault as parents. We learned to tie our shoes because our parents made us learn. Then of course that was back in the day when water was carried in from the well and there was no such thing as VELCRO.

Parents I know pamper and protect their kid. Why not? It’s the most cherished thing in your life. Saying that, the least I can do as a father is make sure my children are ready for a future where the world isn’t as kind as the sideline of a soccer game.

Try crossing the street in New York City and dropping to a knee to tie your laces. That light turns green and you’re still lacing up in the middle of the street….

Well, let’s just say you are going to need a heavy dose of VELCRO to keep the top of your casket shut.

So my advice is this. Go with Velcro. Go with slip ons. Practice tieing shoes. It worked for your grandpa, and it’s gonna work for you.