The scene: Logan Airport, Boston, MA; Gate B-18 prior to the departure of our 10:00 a.m. flight to visit the grandchildren
Stage center: Me engrossed in the newspaper while waiting for our row to be called
Passing by: Two attractive, well-dressed women “of a certain age” heading to the jetway, unnoticed by me until one of them yelled out, “Hey, we like your shoes.” I couldn’t help but notice that their shoes were identical to mine.
My standard airplane shoes are Merrells. They don’t lace, buckle or Velcro shut. My feet slip in and out. I toss them in the gray plastic tray to go through security. Easy as pie. They are a little clunky, but they work.
For me and at least two other ladies of a certain age on the 10:00 a.m. flight.