That’s what I always wore growing up! The treads were always worn out by the time my older brothers outgrew them and they were passed down, though, so I can’t really speak to how grippy they are. Mine were not. And they’ve probably made advancements in any case.
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My friend Eddie invented a drink he dubbed Boot to the Head. It can be very useful when needs must.
It is equal parts black rum (“Not white rum, not dark rum, black rum!” he always emphasized as he gave the recipe) and Bailey’s.
I invited him and his best friend, Mick from The Gories, Dirtbombs, et al, to my 25th bday party, and he brought along some Boot to the Head in a smol Bailey’s bottle. One of the really cool rich kids from my snooty private school with whomst I was hangin’ at the time was most impressed and said, “Wow! He’s got a personal bottle of Bailey’s!”
Eddie turned to him, and dramatically said, “This ain’t Bailey’s.” Every one of them was on the edge of their seats. “This is Boot to the Head.”
The kids were thrilled! A New Drink! They were rich kids - they’d already tried damn near every drink known to humanity by the time they were sixteen, FFS - but they were about to get hip to Something Completely Different. He continued as he sat next to Mick.
“Black rum - not white rum, not dark rum, black rum! - and Bailey’s: half and half. Boot to the Head!”
Mick realized he’d never tried his friend’s concoction, so he said, “Lemme try that!” as he grabbed the bottle. He took a swig, stared into the distance for a few nanoseconds…and entirely involuntarily, his head snapped backwards really hard, then forward again as his eyes grew huge. He almost sputtered as he handed back the bottle, finally saying, “Too violent for me, man!”
The kids immediately gathered closely around them so they could each try Boot to the Head, and each one displayed the same reaction as Eddie doled it out and grinned like a Buddha.
What a great party that was. Another friend’s band performed in the basement, and our little place was packed with lovely people immensely enjoying themselves.
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Are you sure his name wasn’t Tommy Grando?
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I want to rewind time and party with you and your friends
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Well, they do say that Canada is one reason for the Geneva Conventions …
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Slander. Anyway, they started it.
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One for each foot, obvs.
I mean, silly question…
jk 
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I hear their legs are just long enough to reach the ground.
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You would have been more than welcome 
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Indeed.
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Oboe*? Just along with 110 others, like it’s not any different or anything. Yeah, that’s talent.
*Well, and bassoon. Geez.
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I never knew there was a bass recorder.
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Yet still no bass piccolo. Get it together, woodwinds!
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There is such a thing as piccolo bass though, as dumb as the name is: a bass guitar tuned up an octave. (Either much shorter, or with skinnier strings.)
Mine would be a piccolo bass, except that it’s a five-string and can be tuned down a bit. So where a typical 4-string bass is EADG, mine is ADGCF. I think of it as “cello range.”
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Well of course there is. Bass players are always back there thinking. Plotting. Not really talking about what they’re up to. But they have their plans.
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I think it’s safe to say, there are way too many stringed instruments. This needs to stop.
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