Dad boots

Over the last few months I've been restoring the leather on my dad's "older-looking" set of jungle boots.  (Rub in olive oil until the leather no longer absorbs it.  But keep it where the air can circulate, or else it gets mildewy.)  They're actual Vietnam War-era combat boots -- slightly older than I am.

This weekend I polished both of them:  the blacker ones with black shoe polish, and the duller ones with "clear" polish; acknowledging that when you're sneaking through the jungle you probably wouldn't want to be shiny.

Not perfect -- but, an improvement.


On Monday, I wore them in to work, Ralph Nader style.  (Second photo taken on the train ride to work.)

Will probably wear the non-black ones to work on "casual Friday" of this week.


--GG

Taps

Just before Valentine's day, I bought a pair of tap shoes. I'd wanted to learn how to tap dance for a few years now, and -- similar to when I bought an electric guitar -- I figured that you can't learn how to tap dance without tap shoes.

And now it's a month later. How am I going?

Well, I discovered that it's a lot harder than it looks. It's fun -- I'm teaching myself through YouTube videos -- but apparently a lot of it involves keeping your heel **just** above the ground. This is hard work, and also tricky to balance (you're on the balls of your foot -- usually on just one foot!).

The Lady asked that I not tap dance on the floors: she was afraid I was going to scratch them. So, I got a white piece of shelving from the shed and used that. But I kept running out of room. After about a week, I got another piece of wood -- which you can see, under the white wood -- and I've been using that instead. More room; works better.

I practiced every night for about two weeks -- then got busy and didn't touch it for a while. Then I did it here and there -- maybe once a week. We'll see how it goes.


--GG

I heart my slippers

During my recent trip to Seattle, I packed a pair of slippers. Brought them with me to all my visits. Wore them around people's homes.

And at the hotel, on my final day of my visit to the U.S., I padded down the hall to the ice machine and back, in my old, old slippers.

I like my slippers. Maybe that's an Old Guy thing to say -- and that's o.k. But they're **so** much more comfy than shoes. And more padded than just wearing feet.


Good stuff.


--GG

P.S. ''Wearing feet'' is a term coined by The Girl. The other one is something being ''loud in my ears''.

Exploding shoe

This happened last Friday: Was doing my "music a day" thing of walking to the local park, playing the harmonica (or tin whistle, depending on my mood) for 15 minutes or so, then walking back to the office.

Partway to the park, heard a "flap, flap, flap" sound with every second step. Looked down, and the sole of my right foot was starting to come away from my shoe. So, tried walking more carefully, but -- nope, fell completely off. I was almost all the way to the park, so I just kept going -- carrying my shoe sole in one hand.

Sat there and played the harmonica. Then walked back -- in the drizzle -- with the wet from the sidewalk soaking through my moccasin-shoe. Got back to the office, and talked to the electrician guy who's been working on the new office suite down the hall. Mentioned my predicament, and he offered me a tube of special glue he had down in his truck.

Gave it a try -- but, didn't work. And now the **left** shoe was starting to come apart, as well (see above; left side wedged open w/ a pen, to show the extent of separation).

How to get to the bus stop: about five blocks?

So, MacGyver time. Raided the office supply drawer, and took out a bunch a rubber bands which I had donated to the office the week before.


Not pretty -- but, functional.

Stuffed a few extra rubber bands into my knapsack, just in case I wore through some of them while walking. Luckily, I did not.

I was going to glue the soles back on, over the weekend, but the store we usually go to was out of the special shoe glue I use. But, eventually.


--GG