My husband and I discovered, much to our amazement, that as young - unsupervised- children, both spent alot of time trying to get things caught on telephone wires.
My most vivid memory of this useless, but oh-so-important task was trying to hook my brand new Snoopy stuffed animal on the wire by his nose. I spent ALL afternoon Easter Sunday trying to do that.
How that must have looked to the neighbors.
“Ehhh, lookit Myrtle, she’s out there…”
“Yep. Tossing that stuffed animal up and then racing to catch it…”
“Well, she’s determined, I’ll say.”
" She ain’t right in the head…"
It was sort of a tradition to try and loop a pair of your boots over the lines when you were getting out of the Army, but you’d catch hell if you got caught.
Pair of really grotty work shoes. Put ‘em over the wires in front of where my two summers’ job was. I had been painting these huge wrought iron bird cages in a kiddy pool full of black paint (and who hasn’t?).
Does this have anything to do with the three pairs of tennis shoes hanging on the wire that crosses Markham Street?
Sneakers. Usually with no one in them.
Back when my friends and I did this, ProKeds and Pumas were the popular favorites. In my old neighborhood, you couldn’t go a block without seeing at least one pair hanging.