“I cried because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet.” 


- Helen Keller

Young Andy

For those of you who know me well, you know I have a thing against wearing shoes. I don’t know when this started, but as evidenced by the above picture of me barefoot at an early age, it may have begun at birth.

When I was working in the store, the first thing I did when I got in my car after work was to take my shoes off and drive home barefoot. When we travel, I’m barefoot on the plane. In movie theaters, I take my shoes off as soon as I get seated. When I had an office, I was always barefoot. I like to be comfortable, and being shoeless is satisfying.

During warmer weather and if I’m working in the yard, I’m barefoot. Sure, I’ve cut my foot; stubbed my toe; stepped on unpleasant and/or painful objects, and even dropped stuff on my feet, but the freedom of being barefoot outweighs the short-term pain and/or blood. It may be a misguided belief, but I think going barefoot helps to keep my feet flexible. After all, I can pick up a tennis ball with my toes. Can you?

I’m well aware that not everyone may like to see my bare feet as they shuffle past in a theater aisle, but there are a lot of unpleasant things we see every day, and they’re just feet. I keep them clean, and my toenails clipped. With the current exception of a black and blue big toe on my right foot from some bare-footed accident, I think I have pleasant looking feet.

The other day Mary and I were at The Old Globe Theater in Balboa Park for a play, and as soon as I sat down in the theater, off came my shoes. As I was taking them off, I wondered if the gentleman seated to my immediate left might be offended in some way, so I left my socks on.

As the lights came up during intermission, and as I was putting my shoes back on, I happened to glance over and noticed my seatmate was putting his leg back on—he wore a prosthesis on his right leg, and like me, probably wanted to be comfortable.

I guess I needn’t have worried about him being offended by my bare feet.

You learn a lot when you're barefoot.

The first thing is every step you take is different.

-Michael Franti, musician