Recently, a friend was telling me that her mother, a most charming Southern woman, had to give up her high heels. She is 76 and the loss for her has been immense. “She wore them three or four years longer than she might oughta have,” she said. I understand. It’s hard to accurately describe my love affair with high heels. When I was a sports writer, I wore them on the sidelines of many a football game. At least twice, I was able to outrun a couple of running backs who were forced into the sidelines by the defensive line.