Flip Flop

Flip Flops are my foot wear of choice. They used to herald the beginning of summertime and it was exciting to go to the local Thrifty or Sprouse Ritz stores to pick out the lucky pair I would make my only shoe for when school was out. If I wasn't in flip flops, I was barefoot.

Not only do they fit nicely on my freakishly big feet, they are acceptable foot wear for just about anywhere I frequent in this warm climate of Southern California.

I have to wear a men's sandal so I thank the trend of todays designer to make the sandals of mens and women's look virtually the same.

I love the noise the flip flop makes slapping against my foot sole as I walk. I can wear them shopping, to dinner, with dresses, skirts, blue jeans and to church. Light weight and available in a rainbow of colors and styles make these the foot wear every Californian wears out on the town.

My favorite sandals are my black Nikes. So comfy, and slimming to my feet. I wear them every where and just about every day. Of course I took them to the beach with me. I wanted my feet to look as fine as they felt in the shoe .  They fit right into that seashore lifestyle. No socks for us. It wouldn't matter if it was 20 degrees outside, we are at the beach and flip flops is it!

Part of our daily beach routine is to walk the beach, It's about a 3 mile walk and we usually have most of those miles to ourselves and a handful of experienced surfers,

Our dog, Captain Morgan, loves the beach and is an expert Frisbee player, romping into the surf to fetch his brightly covered and unsinkable disk. As I walked along the shoreline, tossing the Frisbee, I took off my sandals and waded barefoot into the surf. An aggressive wave hit me in the thigh and I lost grip of one of my sandals. I watched in dismay as it disappeared under the foaming tide. I stood there in disbelief. My beloved flip flop gave itself a burial at sea in seconds.

For the rest of my walk and Frisbee tossing, I searched the shore for the lost shoe, hoping it would emerge from the watery depths and do a true flip flop on the sand. I kept ahold of the left sandal hoping to get its mate back some time before having to head back up the hill to our camp across hot lava sand and asphalt.

No such luck. I donned the left and only got a lonely "flip" sound and limped rapidly to the next tolerable place to rest the burning right foot. Mr. Man stepped in an epic puddle of tar hiding under hot sand and it oozed between his toes. Not wanting to mar his new beach crocs, he put a plastic bag on his foot which came up to his ankle and then the shoe. We were quite the site walking back to our camp. We received many comments about tarry feet and warnings about hot streets. Thanks folks!

Back at camp I found the back up flip flops and tested them out but their tone was deeper and not as sassy or appealing as the lost Nike flop. The next few days of my beach wanderings were spent scanning the horizon for a little black boat shaped like my shoe and poking at sea weed bundles to see if it was hiding under their bulky shapes. I found plenty of "blackish" things I thought were my flop, but all turned out to be ominous looking sea plants, bits of sea tattered clothing or dead bird.

I've mourned the loss of the Nike flop and deposited its friend Flip into the recycle bin before leaving the oceanfront for home.

Digging into my shoe bin, I've recovered 6 pair of various flip flops and I'm retesting their capability to make that charming noise I love to hear as I walk around. I've settled on leather OP's for now and started a quest for my next favorite pair.

Happy flippity flop to you. We all walk to a different song!