Socks

Yeah, that's me stylin in my white tube socks and skin tight cycling shorts. I was on a round the lake, 3 day mountain bike excursion up country Maine. I went there with my good friend J. There are many beautiful places in the world. Flagstaff Lake and the Bigelow area around the lake is certainly one of them. 

But I didn't come here to replay a camping trip from 30 years ago. I have no plans to discuss my ability to disregard fashion with such laughter inducing flare. No, I came here to write about socks. Not just any socks, but all socks, which include my favorite for years, the ambidextrous tube sock. Cheap, dependable, and no other sock on the planet can hold a candle to the tube sock when it comes time to choose a sock  to use as a sock puppet for that darling little rug muncher wearing the stinky diapers who is trying to let you know she's in need of a change, but instead, you make her a sock puppet.

Like most Western World inhabitants, socks, or sox, if you'd like, are an almost obligatory, there is no other acceptable option, article of clothing. Yeah, they have their uses for sure. They keep our feet warm, sometimes keep them dry, and if you have dogs, they often will entertain your pet for hours with one you thought you lost in the laundry. But the most insidious and evil use of socks is as a gift under the Christmas tree or in the Stocking hanging on the mantle.

I did not accept socks as a child, nor shoes for that matter. Up until the idea of shoes and socks had finally been forcibly infused into my soul at around age 6, I tended to lose one, the other, or both of them on a regular basis. It was first grade on Hickam Air Force Base , Hawaii,  the final straw had broken that poor camel's back. I was sent home to either retrieve or find some footwear to wear at school. I do believe that was the first time I was ever in trouble at school....... Uh no, wait. .... The first time was in Kindergarten in Japan when I accidentally set off the fire alarm. Boy, did that create a fracas. I was not sent home, but I was detained until my mom came to get me.

Uh, sorry 'bout that. Got a tad off the trail I was trying to beat.....

So I have laid the groundwork for my love , but mostly hate relationship with footwear. Of course after I had finally given up open resistance to footwear, I joined the rest of the world I knew and fell into line. I began to look forward to new shoes and socks, especially ones I wanted, not ones my parents wanted.

Wanting  specific styles of socks and shoes began in earnest when I was hard into puberty and trying to fit in and meet girls. The cool kids at Mark Twain Junior High sported the "Click look"; Shirts with button down collars, khaki pants, Penny loafers and most important of all, Adler wool socks that matched the day's shirt color. Yeah, we knew hip like it was part of our DNA.

Then came my period of uninspired footwear. I took to wearing shoes and socks for utilitarian purpose. I wore dress shoes for those dress up moments, work boots for those work moments, and no shoes or socks if I chose when I was on my own time. Tube socks became my default sock. I went through them like corn through a goose.

Life moved on until I discovered that Mountain Biking had finally come out of it's Hill Billy purpose oriented clothing and some style finally found it. It was the advent of the statement sock; socks that shared something about you to the world. From whimsical to outrageous clashes that hurt the eyes. Socks became a pallet upon which one could flaunt their disregard for propriety. For me it was my lizard socks. Still have them safely out of eyesight in a sock drawer.

I am in my 70's now. Over 6 years ago I made what is, I am pretty sure, an almost positive decision on my choices in foot wear for the rest of my time in this world. Socks are out. Totally out. I have not worn a sock in a shoe for over 6 years. The reason is not political, not belligerent, it is a decision made because it is just too fuckin hard and painful to put the damn things on anymore. 

Yet, with the advent of chronic gout as part of my life now, I accept that shoes will be needed more than ever. I wear shoes, but no socks. I thought at first I would miss them. Seems I don't, But every so often I still  hanker for a fresh new pair of tube socks.

Catch Ya'll on the Flip Side ...........................

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I know it is not Christmas, but this song about socks was the best I could do on such short notice. Here is "Socks", by JD McPherson. A clever little jazz number that made me smile. I always hated getting clothing for Christmas except the sweaters my aunt used to knit for me.