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“What are you gonna do with those pointy toed boots?” they would say. “You gonna kill a spider in the corner?” The jokes would go on and on about my grandpas black pointy toed boots. I grew up just a mile down the road from Grandma and Grandpa in northeast Oklahoma. There was not a day went by that my feet did not enter some type of cowboy boots, but I never would have worn a pointed toed boot like grandpas. We rode and fed horses and cattle everyday in boots, you know regular boots like ropers and round toed boots. We left the pointy toes up to grandpa to wear. Every year I would go to the store before school started and would buy me a new pair of boots. I would always take them for grandpa to look at right out of the box. A year never went by that he did not ask me “when are you gonna get you some real boots with pointy toes?” I would laugh and tell him, “I aint gonna wear those things!”
That has been over 25 years ago now. Grandpas black pointy toed boots are in the garage stored away in a box for safe keeping. He has been suffering from prostate cancer now for over a year. It has been tough on a man of 82 who took care of close to 1500 acres for most of his adult life to not be able to do it anymore.
I spent Easter Sunday afternoon with grandma and grandpa this week. I got to show him my new pair of boots for possibly the last time. He told me “those are the best looking boots you have ever had, they look good on you,” as he looked at my new pair of Lucchese black pointy toed 1883’s. I guess we should never say never.