A Common Denominator of Rubber Soles

Taking a photo of my shadow on the bridge path and wearing Merrells

It always happens. I find a style that fits well or that says “me,” and then the manufacturer changes it for the worse. I don’t know which audiences were surveyed when my favorite shoes, then bras, then tee shirts, then jeans went the way of “this will be better.”

My Easy Spirit® mesh mules succumbed that year. I loved wearing them and bought them online; they fit perfectly sight unseen.

So when I got a summer job during this shoe crisis I noticed my manager’s yellow mules. They looked cute and comfortable; she said they were Merrell® Breeze.

My new favorites.

A ‘Dr. Google’ search revealed the Original Encore Breeze was released in 2002-2003. The second iteration was released around 2006-2007 and may have been the shoes worn by my manager.

Breeze 3 released in 2012-2013 was identical and fit equally well. I bought two additional pairs in different colors. My feet stayed dry even when I wore them in the rain (though I saved one pair for heavy rain).

Then came Breeze 4, which looked and felt completely different. Breeze 5 was like a stretchy sock and swapped the classic structure for a flimsier foam layout. I tried on a few pairs and really wanted to like them. Nope. The sides of my feet (medium width) spilled over the footbed, and my toes squished through the fabric.

They were nothing like the earlier models and were neither supportive nor stylish. One would think it they were competing with Skechers®, which also felt like oversized socks.

The company messed with a good thing.

When my left hip joint was replaced in March 2018, the podiatrist said buy sturdy shoes. He rolled his eyes at my Clarks® Breeze Sea Cloudsteppers — and again when I mentioned Dr. Scholl’s® Exercise Sandals — so I wore Merrell shoes to the next appointment. To me they were sturdy. He stopped mentioning shoes.

Dr. Scholl’s were made from a piece of leather attached to a piece of wood that left one’s feet at the mercy of the elements. Their wood bottoms featured toe grips and arch supports and heel cups/grips. I loved wearing them years ago.

My surgeon wears Crocs® clogs and says nothing about my footwear. Who best to listen to?

The podiatrist was wrong. Six and one-half weeks after surgery my Merrells and I were walking two miles every other day in one-mile stints, preparing for when the Cuomo Bridge’s shared use path opened (it would open June 2020).

They were on my feet for two 3.6-mile treks (not the same day) from the South Nyack landing to the Tarrytown landing. I had no blisters or sores.

Then came the day my shoemaker destroyed them. He worked magic on handbags and belts and shoe heels and soles so I asked him to repair the slightly-worn rounded heels.

He put hard rubber on them, which removed the rolling motion. I asked for a refund and got one after he angrily, sloppily cut off the new heels. I threw them out at home.

Now and then I look for new Breeze 3 shoes. The company clearly ruined a wonderful model. Wolverine World Wide, are you listening?

I’d like to know what you think.

Copyright © Janie Rosman and Kaleidoscope Eyes 2026

A Taped Battery Door and Incorrect Glasses

That mid-August day in 2009 was bleak for The Journal News’ advertising and news departments. We were called into a meeting and fired from our jobs, then told we had to reapply — except we weren’t told the shift, location or specific job.

My heart fell to my stomach. I began working at the city desk — back then it was The Reporter Dispatch — while in college and carry journalistic wisdom learned from my first editor. After freelancing there on and off during the years, I was hired part-time two summers before the restructuring.

The risks of applying to unknowns were too great so I opted for a buyout; many of my colleagues were rehired. Soon after I followed several editors and reporters from the newsroom to Patch, a then-new hyperlocal news model, and began writing for its community platforms.

As I had no camera — the photo department loaned me one for assignments — my former editor, now at Patch, told me about the Nikon Coolpix L22. That powerhouse had 12.0 megapixels, a 3.6 zoom lens and a 3-inch LCD screen and could compete with the best of cameras.

Through the years I’ve replaced my original red L22 with the same preowned model and color and sometimes taped the easily-breakable battery door. It’s proven itself time and again on every assignment and road trip.

And as I’m inept with more complex cameras, this point-and-shoot was perfect for me. Extra batteries always came along for the ride.

Eight Augusts later I was covering the ceremonial opening of the new Gov. Mario M. Cuomo Bridge’s westbound span. Except I couldn’t see.

The previous day I’d picked up my bifocal prescription glasses from a local optical shop and realized too late it only filled one of the two prescriptions, leaving me with midrange lenses and no reading glasses.

I was scheduled for the first of two cataract removal surgeries – left eye first – the following month yet until then I needed bifocals.

So I did the best I could as I was unable to see/change the setting on my camera. It would have to stay on Easy Auto Mode.

Media walked around the span we’d written about for several years prior to that day. I was fascinated to see the structures up close and kept pointing, waiting and pressing the shutter-release button.

Prior to the ceremony we were told we’d get the best photos of then-Gov. Andrew Cuomo’s inaugural drive across the span with the late Armando “Chick” Galella, a WWII veteran and a Pearl Harbor survivor, if we stood on the back of the nearby rack truck that would move ahead of them.

I climbed up and surveyed the scene. Photographers near me carried huge cameras that cost more than my first car.

Because of my location I had an unobstructed view of the ceremony and speakers despite the glasses error. I remember holding up the camera and letting Easy Auto Mode do the work, same as I’d done earlier.

The L22 chose the right scene mode, adjusted the exposure and activated the Electronic Vibration Reduction (EVR) to help steady my distance shots.

When the speeches were completed, and the ribbon was cut, the truck began to move slowly. As Cuomo and Galella waved to us from the front seat of the 1955 Chevrolet Corvette, I realized if you can’t change the settings, then you have to trust the view.

I’d like to know what you think.

Copyright © Janie Rosman and Kaleidoscope Eyes 2026

From the Archives: So Much Easier to Say

Image source: Risk to Business Archive

Workplace bullying made me feel isolated and presented an uncomfortable choice: report what’s happening and risk being disbelieved or that nothing will change, or remain silent and hope it stops. I had another choice: I left.

Years ago I worked as a secretary at Texaco, Inc., to supplement my income while I built a network of freelance writing clients. The marine department was a fun group; I learned to send and read telexes and felt an important part of the team.

One of the managers was a former sea captain and told fascinating stories.

My coworkers and I got along well, and I enjoyed working there. The first year my supervisor gave me a beautiful scarf as holiday gift; I cherish that scarf and enjoy wearing it. What happened afterward was very different.

Texaco relocated its marine department to Port Arthur, TX. A few colleagues accepted the company’s relocation package while others left to find other work. The administrative staff stayed in Harrison, NY; I was transferred to a small, four-person department.

Heading that group was the private pilot for Texaco’s president and CEO. I wanted to be helpful so I corrected the grammatical and spelling errors in his reports. He reproached me, was disrespectful and spoke down to me.

My immediate manager was a woman who smoked; her gravelly voice made her behavior more intimidating. Another employee often walked around to my cubicle and asked if I was doing my work or writing freelance stories.

I wrote at night and on weekends, never during the work day. She didn’t believe me and reported me for doing personal work on company time. A fourth employee planned her wedding during work hours and took two-hour lunches. No one said a word.

After documenting the employee who kept asking me what I was doing I filed a report with human resources and asked to be transferred to another department. The result? I was reprimanded for telling lies and given no work as punishment.

Imagine sitting for hours at a time with nothing to do. I brought books to read and thought I’d be fired, which would have been a blessing.

My outside phone line was restricted so I was not allowed to make calls — a friend in the next department often let me use her phone — and software was removed from my computer. The coworker who reported me watched me closely to see if I took one more minute than allowed for lunch or breaks.

No new software was installed on my computer when the systems were upgraded.

I held on because it was a paycheck and quietly looked for other work, then finally left. A friend working at a local weekly newspaper helped me secure an interview there, and I began writing a weekly column.

Some might point out companies have antidiscrimination policies. Yet what happens when those policies are ignored?

Though I chalked Texaco up to a harsh experience in the corporate world something about it felt very wrong.

Well . . . there is also karma.

A few years later the “Texaco Tapes” — recordings exposing top executives using vile racial slurs and openly mocking Jewish holidays — were leaked to the public. While it was small consolation that the company reached a $176 million court settlement in 1996, I suspected this systemic corporate culture was the despicable reason behind my coworkers’ abusive and toxic behavior.

So much easier to say, “She’s doing personal work on company time.”

Always speak up if or when someone mistreats you. Everyone deserves a personally safe and respectful work environment.

I’d like to know what you think.

Copyright © Janie Rosman and Kaleidoscope Eyes 2026