Agony of Da Feet

WARNING: NON-BASEBALL POST

Growing up, I was never big on going to the beach. There were never any family day trips and I spent my summers goofing off in the suburbs.

But things changed when I met my wife. She grew up in a beach town, two blocks from the ocean. She has actual salt water in her veins. We spend a lot of at the beach, and I make a point of working on my sunburn. I suck at sunscreen. I always end up missing spots and getting roasted. Usually on my feet. I burn with the best of them.

But there's one thing I just can't deal with–flip-flops. Having summered in the suburbs for most of my life, I never had the need for them. It was always sneakers. I've tried flip-flops. And sticking that thing between my toes is the most unpleasant feeling I've ever experienced. I don't know how you people do it. That kind torture should be outlawed by the Geneva Convention.

So I've settled for mandals. Yes, men's sandals, of the non flip-flop variety. There's the part where you stick your toes through and then a couple of velcro closure thingies. They take longer to put on than flip-flops. They look stupid. But they're really comfortable, especially without that thing between your toes.

I've made efforts in the past to become part of team flip-flop. I've tried wearing them around the house to get used to the feeling. Nope. Can't do it. I think the longest I've ever been able to wear them is 14 seconds. My feet are weird enough as it is. Might as well add mandals to complete the look.

So if you're on the beach in Stone Harbor, NJ today and see a sunburned guy with mandals parked next to his beach chair, say hello. It's probably me.