Way before I became the second in command of Earth’s first activist organization for robopets, I was a child who wore cleats. Everywhere. The shiny, white, plasticky kind. When I wasn’t wearing cleats I was wearing cowboy boots.

I wore cleats and cowboy boots all the time, even in summer; and since I was a small child in the late 1970s and early ’80s, I also wore a particular kind of shorts in summer. Perhaps that word needs a little more emphasis. Shooooooooorts. The kind with contrasting piping on all of the seams and the little notch on the outside of the leg. With cowboy boots. Picture it, then set the picture on fire so nobody else will ever see the picture again.

My point is: Crocs are okay for children, but everyone else should wear real people shoes.