It's a flip-flop life

I hear a lot about flip-flopping lately, particularly in a political season such as this. And apparently, so far as I can tell, it’s supposed to be a bad thing. I’m not so sure.

It’s summer right now, my favorite time of the year, and I am currently living in my flip-flops. I can’t remember the last time I wore shoes. Could be I put on some old tennis shoes (technically skate shoes, as I am old yet hip) when I mowed the lawn a couple weeks ago. That’s the down side of this time of year. Flip-flops good, lawn care bad. Which is why I don’t water the lawn. Which is why I only have to mow every couple weeks. When I finally buy a house, I’m putting in lots of cement. Or hiring a guy to handle the yard for me, in which case it can be a football field for all I care.

Anyways, the point is, I can’t remember what shoes feel like. I wear flip-flops all day, every day, unless I’ve kicked them off while watching the tube. I wear them to the store, I wear them to work, I wear them to business meetings (although I did invest in a pair of “dress flips” for client meetings, which are all leather and somewhat more upscale than the blue rubber ones).

It is a little wierd that I can wear them in the store or a restaurant, which don’t allow bare feet, but allow nearly naked feet. It must be the same logic that dictates that walking around in a bra and panties is inappropriate, but a bikini made of dental floss and postage stamps is okay. Go figure. They are both standards I can live with.

Admittedly, I’m lucky to be self-employed in an “artsy” type industry that accepts eccentricity from its creative types, in a town that invented Surf Culture (Santa Cruz, California, USA, baby). Whatever the future holds, whatever jobs I pick up, whatever I end up being when I grow up, it’ll have to support me in the manner to which I am accustomed… the flip-flop, jeans, t-shirt and hoodie manner.

On that I won’t flip-flop.

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