KAPAI: New shoes and stories spice up first day

There is something about new leather that sends a message from the nostrils to the brain about a new beginning in the air.
Be it the front-seat leather upholstery of a new 66 Valiant Charger sitting in Pierce Motors or the shining black leather shoes when they came out of the box at Syd Weatherly's shop, the smell of leather and newness was the same.
The only time I got a whiff of new leather back then besides the new rugby ball that Hank Luke brought our Mount 9th grade rugby team, was a couple of days before the summer school holidays ended and my Mum had put down the final ten bob of her flour mills pay to secure my school shoes purchase.
I don't know who was prouder, me or her, when we walked in together with her hard-earned pay packet to take delivery of my flash footwear that would make me look gunnier and run faster than any 66 Chrysler Valiant charger. And besides there was nothing wrong and nothing new about our hudder-hudder MkI Zephyr Zodiac. Well nothing besides the fact that you could watch the world go by through the floorboards and a set of bald tyres that would make Vince Martin's hair piece fall off.
I never thought my Mum needed sleep in those days because the last sound I heard when I fell asleep on a Sunday night before school was the clatter of pegs outside my bedroom window as she hung out another packet of Persil's worth of clothes.
And when I woke in the morning I would hear the clatter of plates and pans as the first pot of porridge and second loaf of bread hit the table in time for the army of kids that poured into the kitchen of our modest Macville Rd brick home.
That was how the Monday madness of the first day back at school started for us kids, as we juggled for grid positions in the hands of the starter, my eldest bro Mike, to make the mad dash, down the road to Omanu School.
There was so much to look forward to on the first day back with my mates but nothing matched the excitement of walking to school wearing my brand new pair of black leather shoes.
I really did expect everyone to notice and couldn't understand why our neighbours hadn't come running out in droves to have a jack at my flash footwear that caused me to promenade along the pavement toward the Tui St corner.
Each unnoticed step in my Syd Weatherly clod-hoppers was comforted by a new question about what, where and who was there to greet me on the green, green grass of school? What class would I be in and who would be my new teacher? Would it be Mr To Sir With Love Paniora, Mr Great Gadsby Gatwood or the delightfully delicious Mrs Mabey, who served up school lessons with such a flair you couldn't help but eat it all up.
It was all just a bit too much to wait for and by the time the shortcut through the forest of dreams behind Gordon Craig's whare had been manoeuvred and the last peach pinched from Trevor Tolleys tree, it was game time at Omanu School, new shoes and all.
I guess that was about the time in my life when the story telling started. When the first playtime of the first day back at school rippled with action replays of family holidays spent on exotic islands doing amazing things, I had to go into bat for my whanau, especially my hard-working Mum.
When it was my turn to take centre stage I would paint a picture of a holiday on horseback, hoofing it along a deserted island owned by a very wealthy uncle who showed me the fine art of competitive equestrian skills and pastoral management. In reality, it was just a Faulkner's ferry ride to Uncle Cotty's farm on Motuhoa Island riding an old nag named Dusty who used to dump me every time I yelled out "Hi ho, Silver".
My selective pastoral management involved pulling ragwort to the tune of Syd Tonks and the second leg on my uncle's trusty old transistor radio.
Oh well, at least the island bit was true and my time on Motuhoa was as magic as any dumb old Pakatoa or Paradise called Surfers. Besides with what it cost to go to those flash places, my Mum could have brought a brand new pair of sweet smelling leather shoes for all of us 11 kids and still had enough left over to fill in the floorboards of our MkI Zephyr.
Have a happy time back at school, tamariki ma, and don't forget to keep those shoes shinny.
tommykapai@clear.net.nz