Eventually, tennis shoes came out with Velcro rather than laces, which worked so much better. I had to have some then, and still wear shoes of that type. Besides, our mother taught us some weird way to tie our shoe laces and this has plagued me all my life. Velcro was my liberation!
I even got a ski jacket that had Velcro cuffs to seal out the wind and snow, and Velcro epaulets on the shoulders. The latter was designed to hold your goggles and other accessories when you were not wearing them, and this too seemed like the greatest idea since sliced bread.
It seemed like each year brought more items onto the market that took advantage of Velcro. Then it happened. Technology turned on me, and Velcro began to do bad things to me.
My first run-in with Velcro occurred several years ago when I was on a business trip to Los Angeles in a rental car. It was a Ford Thunderbird, or something like that, a free upgrade from the microbox I was originally authorized. I was not used to the large heavy doors, so I planted my foot on the kick pad and kicked the door open as I stepped from the car. Unfortunately, the Velcro on my shoes caught on the carpeting on the kick pad, and my shoe was torn off of my foot. I nearly fell out of the car into the parking lot. Luckily, I was parked far away from the lobby and no one watched me standing there in my sock as I ripped the shoe from the door and got dressed.
The second time was more painful. I had bought a short-sleeved shirt that had Velcro on the pockets rather than buttons, and Velcro tabs inside the sleeve to tie the sleeves fully pulled up. I seldom wore the sleeves that way, so I usually just disarmed the Velcro and wore the shirt normally. One day, when I went to remove the shirt, I discovered that the badly matched Velcro strips had grabbed onto my underarm hair. I discovered this when I felt the pain as I pulled my shirt off and let it fall down my back. I almost ended up in a position with the shirt half on and half off, with my arms tied up behind me -- like a straight jacket. Painful, very painful.
The third and most recent case of man versus Velcro came at the San Francisco AG. It was the final day and we were all saying goodbye. I was wearing a lightweight outdoor shirt with Velcro patch pockets, which were open with the flaps flipped up or tucked in the pockets. I was hugging Sherrie Reimers, who was wearing a Lycra-Spandex top that fit her very well. As the hug came to an end, we realized that my Velcro had become stuck to her Lycra and we were firmly attached to each other. It took a few minutes to very carefully pry ourselves apart so as not to ruin her top. Actually, I kind of enjoyed the cheap thrill of it all.