No Shoes, No Problem

A more lighthearted, humorous topic than recent ones, LOL ..... This summer has been so hot, and I've limited outdoor time to the cooler morning.  I remembered a long-ago, perennially shoeless neighbor who grew up in Tucson and said the sidewalks were so hot, that she had to throw a towel on the sidewalk as she went barefoot. That made me laugh; you certainly couldn't walk anywhere very quickly!

Going barefoot is a little like inserting "Holy Grail" or "Big Lebowski" references into your conversation. If you tell certain folks you like going barefooted, you'll get an enthusiastic response and declarations that they hate putting shoes on. "There's NOTHING like going barefoot!" declared a classmate. My lighthearted thoughts about this odd topic are for such folks. Everyone else won't quite get it, just like some people won't understand why you'd say "We want a shrubbery," or "Hey, nice marmot!"

As I took a neighborhood stroll in the morning, I paused and chatted with a neighbor who worked shoeless in the yard, trimming plants and pulling weeds and tossing them temporarily onto the sidewalk. I said how much fun going barefoot is; my neighbor said she goes outdoors without shoes on to do something and then just continues that way with other yard chores. Wading for an hour or so in the tilled soil and mulch made gardening more enjoyable.    

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That’s a cheerful thing to think about: deciding, as the day goes along, that staying barefoot is fine. Many of us do like to putter around the house and yard shoeless, even while entertaining guests. Something's nicely mischievous about it. I like to rake leaves that way.

Once in a while, some of us like to feel "at home" beyond our yards. In our previous, quiet neighborhood, a neighbor often walked barefoot with her dog. Still in her nice work clothes, she kicked off her shoes at home and then took the pooch for a stroll before suppertime. "I love going barefoot!" she declared.

I like to take walks, but on occasions when going barefoot seems like “what the doctor ordered,” shoeless strolls are so comfortable and relaxing (as long as I watch for pebbles and acorns on the sidewalk). Even a very short walk is delightful. "I'm always barefooted!" said an acquaintance when we were outside. It's that moment when you think, "Should I slip back into my shoes?" but you think, "Oh, heck, why bother?"

One time a friend stopped by my dorm room and wanted to know if I wanted to go to the neighborhood market, an easy walking distance.  I was ready for a break from studying and, glancing at my feet, had an "Oh, heck" moment. My friend and I had a nice early autumn saunter as we chatted about this and that, and the path to the store felt so good.

Shoeless walks to another market, in another town, was a pleasant study break when I was doing school work. I’d step outside and pad through the neighborhood to the store for a soda and a few groceries. The owner also didn’t like wearing shoes, thought them necessary only because customers complained, and praised me for being an unexpected cohort. One day she chided me when I arrived with sneakers on, so as a running joke, no pun intended, I nearly always had bare feet when I stopped by on warm days to shop and chat.

Forgoing shoes can be adventurous, because if plans change, you’ve committed yourself. I remember seeing two laughing friends in our savings and loan place. One had business but kept being sent to other offices. The friend, whose bare feet made hasty, gentle thuds upon the tile floors, was along for company but hadn’t expected the errand to be so complicated.

When my daughter was little, sometimes I wore no sandals (or had them off but nearby) when I took her to friends’ houses or to summer camp. I chuckled when a parent of one of her buddies wore no shoes when she drove Emily back home at the end of an afternoon. "Great minds."

One afternoon, I was working around the house when the time came to retrieve my daughter from “zoo camp.” I assumed she would be tired and we’d return home, so I passed on my flip flops. But, not in the least tired, she wanted to visit the zoo gift shop. As it turned out, bare feet provided agility for negotiating a crowd of parents and kids among displays of toys, books and plush animals as I kept up with a small, laughing daughter on the move. I did miss the humor of being barefooted in a jungle-theme place....

Going barefoot used to be a fad, and running errands without shoes was, though not an everyday occurrence, something you’d notice---or do. Leaving our local IGA, I saw an acquaintance heading into the store. She was dressed in her cool top and jeans and carried her purse, but her feet were bare. I assumed she had one of those pleasant moments when she was already shoeless at home and decided to just stay that way for other tasks, in this case, a trip to the grocery.

When you're shoeless while wearing an otherwise decent outfit, the contrast is another quirky thing about deciding, as the day goes along, that staying barefoot is fine. There is a photo online of Jackie Onassis shopping in Italy in nice, casual clothes, but no shoes. I chuckled when a classmate left the dorm for an autumn class, ready for the day in bare feet, warm clothes, down vest, and books and coffee mug in hand.

After the 100+ weather last week, cooler temperatures finally arrived. What a treat that the sidewalks and driveway weren't so hot to the touch for bare feet and I could spend a time shoeless. Devoting a morning to house and yard work, I hauled old boxes from the basement (we just moved), I carried some stuff to the garage, and loaded the car with a few things for Goodwill, then I got the trash and recycling to the curb for morning pick up. Working in the garage is kind of gross, because one's soles soon become unpresentable. At one point in my mighty labors, another neighbor stopped to chat. Once those chores were done, I decided I'd move to the porch and work on the laptop. After writing a while, I took a break and ambled down the street, still holding my laptop. I happened into the neighbor I mentioned at the first, also taking a walk. I chuckled that she'd caught me barefooted, she said that was okay because I caught her barefoot that other morning!

Aged seven or eight, I went to the park a half-block away, and I didn’t realize I was shoeless until I stepped on some thistles. In childhood, you go about your day’s pleasures and not think about shoes unless your parents insist on it. We adults don’t set out with the goal of a fun day, forgetful of our unprotected feet until we’re out and about and something reminds us.

It did happen to me another time, when my family and I were staying at a lodge and relaxing in the characterful great room, with a nice adjoining gift shop and coffee bar. The next morning, I couldn't find my flip flops in our room and realized I'd kicked them off downstairs the evening before as we drank coffee and then shopped. If you like to, going barefoot is a pleasant return to childhood and, once in a while, you feel so comfortable with nothing on your feet that you’re okay with not putting shoes back on, or even better, you relax and forget.