A shiny shoe and polished memories.(Kevin Hughes) Author's Note: I hadn't opened a can of shoe polish in more than a decade. For the first time since I retired I had to wear "hard shoes". When I took them out of the closet, they looked like someone had thrown them in a dumpster. So I bought shoe polish, a brush, and a soft cloth and went to work. And this is the email I sent out to my friends afterwords.

The smell of Kiwi shoe polish - made my day.

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Aloha All,

I had to shine my shoes after a decade of neglect. When I opened the can of shoe polish, the smell triggered so many memories. My first can of shoe polish was bought for me by my brother Bobbie. The rest...is History.

My brother Bobby taught me to spit shine shoes. I was never as good as him. But I did learn enough to make a side income and pin money while I was in the Army. I charged fifty cents for a “Buffed Shine” and a whopping dollar for a “Spit Shine.” On the day before Inspections, or parades, I sometimes did as many as twenty pairs of boots, or shoes. And if you wanted to win Supernumerary (and get to sit with the Staff Duty Officer instead of pulling Guard Duty) I charged an exorbitant …Three Bucks!

My brother Bobby could do a pair of shoes to Supernumerary Level in about five minutes and a truly good Spit Shine in about half that. A buff, heck, he could pull that off in less than a minute. He used a double soft brush technique and then snapped the rag…and Voila…shiny shoes!

I was not in his Class. His tips came because the shine was so good. Mine came because I was so tiny and cute. I wasn’t anywhere near as fast as Bobby, but in my Prime, I could compete with his Spit Shine …just five or ten minutes behind him. I was slower - by far- and his shines were perfect …every time. He gave me his old shoe box when he left the house, but I never made anywhere near the money he did. But I made up for it in the Army! I started shining other Soldiers Shoes in Basic…and word got out.

So I was able to afford my grilled cheeses and French fries at the Grill.

So here is what the shoes from my closet looked like. Unworn since 2013:

Not good. And after fifteen minutes: Buffed. I’m pretty stoked about the outcome. Not a spit shine…wrong kind of leather. But for a before and after scene…I like it.

When I first opened the Kiwi - the smell brought back instant memories. I don’t know how many hours I spent on the steps of Barracks in Germany, Hawaii, New Zealand, Texas, Georgia, N Carolina, S Carolina…and assorted other places…polishing shoes, boots, or dress shoes.

Memories came pounding up the stairs from the basement of my mind…and not all were from the Army days. I can still hear the snap of my brother Bobbies polishing cloth…or the feel of cotton balls on an already slick toe of a pair of Airborne Jump Boots.

One memory of a Retired Army Colonel on a Cruise Ship betting the two other Retired Officers sitting with him that my shoes were not Patent Leather, but a really good Spit Shine. He won the bet! The other two bought me dinner at the Steak House and asked where I was when they went to the Academy. That was a high compliment. LOL

That one smell brought back so many other smell memories. I remember how my Mom smelled, my Sister Kay’s coat when she found me lost in the snow and wrapped me in it. My old HS girlfriend's smell came back. As did the smell of my Kathy.

When Kathy went home to check on the girls from the Cruise Ship, or when I had to go on the Road without her. I took her pillow case off of her pillow, and brought it with me. Kind of like Linus and his blanket. But it worked. Her smell makes me smile. I can remember the smell of Kevina and Kaylyssa as Babies.

There is something so gentle about the way a baby smells. No wonder so many people sniff the head of a days old little one. It is unique…and beautiful. Funnily enough, no bad smells came to mind…and I have smelled a lot of bad things. LOL. I once worked refurbishing old septic tanks…wearing a bio hazard suit and a gas mask. That, my friends, leaves a smell memory. LOL

I remember Timmy taking me to his little flower shop in the Terminal Tower…when I mentioned that the flowers looked pretty but didn’t have much smell. He took me to another section and showed me how all the fragrant flowers are kept…and when they smell best. I loved that.

My favorite smell among the flower world is…(drum roll please!): Night Blooming Jasmine. With those little white flowers that grow on some bushes, and the Magnolia Blooms coming in a close second and third.

And one last memory of smell. I was training in the Army. They were teaching us SERE training where you learn to escape after you get caught, and how to hide from the enemy. Well, I got caught every time. Every single stinking time. It was embarrassing.

Finally I asked the First Sergeant what the heck was I doing wrong?

“Hughes, you stink.”

“I know that Top! But why do they always find me?”

“You stink!”

“I know…but why?”

He laughed and said:

“Hughes, what in the Jungle,Swamp, Forest, or Field smells like Brut?”

I turned beat red. I showered every day (which would have given me away anyway, because nothing in a swamp smells clean!) but I also wore Brut. Brut..for crying out loud.

After that, I let myself get grungy for a few days and managed to eek out a pass.

Just because I shined shoes for the first time in nearly a decade… I got this lovely basket of memories of the smells in my life. It has been a good day.

Oh, and none of my clothes fit except for one shirt! I am no longer tiny and cute.

Smiles, Kevin of the lovely odors.

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