I go shoeless in the summer. I mean like everywhere. The other night I was at the Alta Club with Ken Cannon for a Westerners dinner and w/o even realizing it, I slipped my shoes off there. My shoes sat underneath the table feeling all mortified for me. They kept calling out to me in their tiny squeaky shoe voices going, "Don't forget to put us back on when you stand up. We don't want you to embarrass yourself in front of your husband's colleagues. ALSO! YOU'RE IN THE ALTA CLUB! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?"
So yeah. Shoeless Me. Why does this happen? Maybe because summer is my favorite season? I feel like me in the summer. And when you feel like yourself, you feel comfortable. Comfortable enough to take your shoes off in the Alta Club.
I've often thought that if I lived in a place like Hawaii or SoCal where it's eternal summer, I would never wear shoes. And I would start giving into all kinds of slack and lax instincts, as well. That's why I need Winter to ride into town with its shiny silver lawman's badge to lay down the law for me everywhere now and then. Time to put on shoes. Time to stop sitting on the porch in the evening, looking at the moon and smelling night-scented flowers. Time to line up a schedule or two. Time to be a grownup.
Winter is my sheriff.