Two big events occurred in the 1960s that would weigh heavily on Island culture. The first was that a lot of Greatest Generation-ers and their kids, la boomers, began to come here in the summer. The second was that, thanks to the general freak out and back-to-nature quality of the social revolution taking place, a lotta lotta lotta us went barefoot. All the time. From the minute we hopped out of bed in the morning (or, er, at 2 in the afternoon), and plied on our jeans, fringe vest and love beds, till the moment we crashed amid guttering candles, with a cauldron of peyote tea still simmering on the stove, and under the poster of the Electric Prune.
First, you’re probably disbelieving about the GG demographic ever going barefoot. Certainly my parents didn’t do it, and probably yours didn’t either (outside of the shower and whenever they had sex, but we don’t allow ourselves to think about that). But here’s the thing: On Martha’s Vineyard, certain of our most famous GG-ers made it clear that the first thing they did when they arrived at their summer houses was to kick off their docksiders, and go squidge their toes in the sand.
I’m talking, of course, about Art, Bill and Mike as in Buchwald, Styron and Wallace, all good buddies, all of whom lived in Vineyard Haven, and all of whom set the style for lazy summer days of tennis, a spot of writing, and barefoot walks on the beach.
Now Art, Bill, and Mike may have been the only men in their generation in America who were willing to talk about taking off shoes and socks and actually walking around without them. But for those of us coming of age in the 60s (and the lucky ones who arrived in the care-free paradise of Martha’s Vineyard at the same time; I must admit, I didn’t get here until 1976, but then the 60s didn’t truly end until 1980, am I right?), we were the new enfants sauvages of bare feet.
We received our training in our formative years. Here’s how we developed tender young feet capable of marching over Miami sun-burnt beaches or leaping tall buildings at a single bound: First, after school let out, and shoes came off, we learned by trial and error that the first week was essentially torture, but torture that one was obliged, by some unspoken code, to endure: You walked barefoot over twigs and pebbles and cracks in the sidewalk and every step hurt like the dickens. Here we were, frail young 2nd and 3rd graders hobbling along like Grandpappy Amos, trying to tamp down the “eeks” “ows” and “ouches” for fear the parents would overhear and force us to wear – (oh heaven’s-to-Betsy NO!) shoes!
But for the most part, our moms and dads allowed us to run barefoot, those gentle-hearted GG-ers, and we did! All summer long!
I don’t personally recall how often my mom forced me into a bathtub, but I do retain a vivid image of my exquisitely callused feet getting as black as over-toasted marshmallows on a stick over the campfire. (Funny story: One night I climbed into the opposite side of my sister’s bed because I thought Injun Joe was lurking in the closet. Come morning, my right big toe, resting beside my sister’s pillow, was white on an otherwise sooty-black foot. The only thing we could figure out was that my sis, a habitual thumb-sucker even in her sleep, must have worked over my toe during the night.)
In any event, in those pastoral suburban days back in the 1950s, after a week of tender-footedness, a child’s foot developed a texture like rawhide set out in the sun in a mixture of Elmer’s Glue and formaldehyde. And then you were set. Set for the summer and set for the 60s when young people wore flowers in their hair and nothing on their footsies.
So Greatest Generationals who happened also to be famous writers, and hippies by the thousands traveling to Martha’s Vineyard, found a warm welcome for free-range feet.
I do believe Island retailers – the majority of them off-the-grid counter culturists themselves; why else would they be here?! – were late to tumble to the what-the-hell? attitude of merchants on the mainland who were busy tacking up NO BARE FEET signs. But eventually they caught on, and gradually hippies grew up and accepted jobs in the banking industries and bought Beemers and put on shoes (not necessarily in that order).
But I’ll betcha we still have, on this Island, the highest per capita of people who throw off their footgear any chance they get, and who prime themselves, indefatigably, in the summer, to work up that rawhide on heels and toes.
Or, as John Updike said about his long-ago Island vacations (On The Vineyard, Anchor Books, 1980), “I go barefoot there in recollection . . . the sandy rough planks of Dutchers Dock, the hot sidewalks of Oak Bluffs, followed by the wall-to-wall carpeting of the liquor store . . . the hurtful little pebbles of Menemsha Beach and the also hurtful but half-buried rocks of Squibnocket; the prickly weeds, virtual cacti, that grew in a certain lawn near Chilmark Pond . . . “ and he goes on and on in a single sentence, as only Updike can, but doesn’t it make you want to do it again? Bring it back again?
The Summer of Love! Flowers in your hair and bare feet and whatever else you remember fondly from that long ago time (within reason.)
Michael West
12:45 pm on Monday, October 15, 2012
I think that's one of the things I like least about the winter. Not being able to walk around barefoot. Tho I have seen the late Craig Kingsbury walking barefoot in Vineyard Haven when there was a foot and a half of snow on the ground. I'm really more of a sand-between-my toes guy. And, grass, too, so long as not too many dogs have visited the patch.
Today I was at my bank. Not telling which one. And the cashier who helped me with my deposit was barefoot! It did my heart good to see that.
Pretty soon, tho, socks, nice warm ones especially, will be feeling pretty good on my feet...
Holly Nadler
1:08 pm on Monday, October 15, 2012
Right you are, Michael! Btw, I'd heard stories about the legendary Craig Kingsbury and about how he went continuously barefoot. The first time I ever saw him, well, I only saw his foot. I was getting out of my car at Cronig's when the passenger door opened in the car next to me and a single bare blistered, callused, knobby, banged up foot came down on the asphalt. I said to myself, "That has to be Craig Kingsbury."
Holly Nadler
1:11 pm on Monday, October 15, 2012
Got this great email from a valiant barefooter!:
Holly, I just read your article "Going Barefoot" and thourougly enjoyed your synopsis of the history of our generation's barefoot experiences. I was lucky, living in Ann Arbor MI through the first half of '78 I got to remain happily barefoot until the official close of the '60's, which I also pegged at 1980. In '81 I put on shoes and a tie, but luckily by 1984 I returned to my shoeless preference once again. With my wife also enjoying barefoot city life we were able to ignore convention and just accept being viewed as eccentrics about town. During that period with the help of The Society for Barefoot Living wwwbarefooters.org we gained confidence and the ammunition necessary to fight the residual NSNSNS signs at stores and restaurants. There is a REAL barefoot revolution taking place right now, thanks to the explosion in barefoot running. We have both taken up running now and regularly check in at thebarefootrunners.org No more weird looks in town, instead we are asked questions regarding transitioning to barefoot running and barefoot life. It's a very exciting time for people who love to go barefoot! Thanks for the article, I will post a link to it in the two sites listed above. Thanks again, Alan
Michael West
3:03 pm on Monday, October 15, 2012
Barefootin! Remember the song?
Here is the original by Robert Parker from 1966 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTevhu1ndQM
I think this is the best version of the song Barefootin. This one by Tom Jones and Wilson Pickett. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SjQ_fZvfaE
Cynthia Mascott
6:51 pm on Monday, October 15, 2012
Well, Hell's bell. The "my sister sucked my big toe story" once again snuck into one of your articles. Just remember I have tons of stories about you that your fan base would find more than amusing.
Holly Nadler
9:25 am on Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Cindy, remember back in the 60s when we'd visit Elissa North's house in Bel Air, and her mother would gaze down from the top of the winding stairs and when she spotted us stepping over the threshold she'd say, "Barefoot. Charming." She must've greeted all her daughter's friends that way because we were all barefootin'!
Alan Adler
7:21 am on Wednesday, October 17, 2012
When Jimmy Buffett collaborated with Alan Jackson recording a cover version of the song for the movie "Hoot" Jimmy added the phrase "no sane person would wear shoes unless they had to" at the end.
I concur!
Barefootin'
Written by: Robert Parker
Performed by: Jimmy Buffett and Alan Jackson
Originally from the Album: Hoot (Movie Soundtrack) (2006)
Lyrics:
Everybody get on your feet
You make me nervous when you in your seat
Take off your shoes and pat your feet
We're doin a dance that can't be beat
We're barefootin', Yea we're barefootin'
We're barefootin', Yea we're barefootin'
Went to a party the other night
Long Tall Sally was out of sight
Threw way her wig, and her high sneakers too
Doin' a dance without any shoes
She was barefootin', She was barefootin'
She was barefootin', She was barefootin'
Hey little girl with the red dress on
I bet you can barefoot all night long
Take off your shoes and throw 'em away
Come back and get them another day
We're barefootin', We're barefootin'
We're barefootin', We're barefootin'
Little John Henry he said to Sue
If I was barefootin' would you barefoot too
Sue told John, "I'm thirty two
I was barefootin ever since I was two"
They was barefootin', They was barefootin'
They was barefootin', Yea we're barefootin'
We're barefootin', We're barefootin'
We're barefootin', We're barefootin'
(Spoken by Jimmy): No sane person would wear shoes unless they have to
Holly Nadler
8:03 am on Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Alan, I'm sold! Next summer my sandals will stay on the closet floor! I must say, the minute I'm home, my shoes come off the way the knights of old must have tossed away their armor! Also, in restaurants, I've always needed to remove my shoes and curl up my legs under me, lotus-style. But thanks, Alan, for letting us know there's a second barefootin' revolution going on! And there's no better place for it than Martha's Vineyard (and Ann Arbor!)
Alan Adler
10:26 am on Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Interestingly, despite signs that have been posted on business entrance doors promoting decades old myths not one state in the U.S. has ever had an ordinance requiring footwear in stores or restaurants. In fact, NO COUNTY in the entire U.S. has ever enacted a shoes required rule!
Four municipalities have, and unfortunately ALL FOUR are in MA!
BFrank
9:46 pm on Saturday, October 20, 2012
Thanks for pointing that out, Alan. There are no regulations from health departments requiring customers to wear shoes (contrary to widespread belief) because there has never been any need for such requirements. Health departments across the country, being staffed by well qualified medical experts, know that bare feet pose no public environmental health risk whatsoever. Unfortunately, phony references to "health dept." orders or codes included in some dress code signs of a few businesses over the years have contributed to the myth that bare feet in public are somehow a very bad thing. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Holly Nadler
11:04 am on Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Alan, I'm so happy for all of us who've had the experience (even if it was long ago in the 50s and 60s) of being able to toughen up our feet to make barefootin' easy and fun and liberating. My own chief passion is for bicycling (and car-free living), so footwear is essential for peddling, but nothing wrong with stashing shoes in the bike's basket once you've reached your destination, and going barefoot from there.
Alan Adler
11:27 am on Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Check this out:
http://www.thebarefootrunners.org/threads/barefoot-bike-pedals.1316/page-3
And be sure to read post #47!
Trina Mascott
2:42 pm on Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Trina Mascott
Holly, I'll have you know that all the years we lived in Malibu, Dad and I walked
on the beach at dawn, just as the sun was coming over the eastern mountains.
We wore zoris to walk down the road to the beach, but once on the sand we
took them off and jogged barefoot in the surf.
One morning, we came back to where we had left our zoris and someone had
stolen them! So after that we buried them under the lifeguard stand. And
how about all the kids during the depression whose parents couldn't afford
to buy them shoes? So, so much for my G-Generation not going barefoot!
Holly Nadler
3:13 pm on Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Wow, Trina! Thanks for putting me straight about the GG'ers going barefoot! On the other hand, I imagine you wore shoes and I know Dad did, since HIS dad owned a shoe factory! (Unless that old chestnut about a cobbler's kids going barefoot applied?)
Trina Mascott
4:01 pm on Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Except that your Grandpa Walter made Women's shoes!
Trina Mascott
Holly Nadler
4:08 pm on Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Ooops!
Ward Wellons
7:26 pm on Saturday, October 20, 2012
Great article, I grew up on L.I. NY. I have for a long time forgotten that. I now remember those days in spring when we would peel our shoes off for the warm months ahead, had to break in our soles for the first week or so to get them toughened up for summer. It would hurt for a short time, but we never ever let anybody know we were in pain. But by the end of October we had the toughest soles and could walk and run on anything. Those were great times growing up in the 60s – 70s.
Alan Adler
11:55 pm on Thursday, March 21, 2013
Holly,
Being published as a commenter in The Patch was pretty cool, but St Patrick's Day weekend I made the big leagues.......the cover of the Wall Street Journal!
Check it out: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424127887323826704578356632609610700.html