… By the Contents of the Man's Purse

Not too long ago, our neighbor had the battery of his car stolen overnight. The thief was either desperate, in a hurry or both because he not only stole the battery, but cut the cables attached to it. Despite the theft of a car battery, something else puzzled me. Why him? Why his car? I don’t know what kind of battery our neighbor had in his car, but his car was an early model Ford Taurus Wagon.
I remember watching the commercials on television, making the station wagon look glamorous and stylish. Let’s not forget the ample room and the cup holders. It was truly a utilitarian product. My brother and I thought it was the greatest thing on earth.
Fast forward 20 or so years, and I am still a fan of utilitarian products, all the better if their intended purpose is storage, for them to ample in that department. Earlier this year, my wife took a trip to Los Angeles with a couple of her girlfriends for a weekend adventure. I’ve always been smitten by the idea of airport gift shops. Despite the over priced wares, I find them to be a great way to kill time before the flight leaves. After saying goodbye to my wife, I was beckoned by one of these aforementioned stores with a lure of their versatility of products and signs near the entrance that declared ‘clearance’. It has been said that I am “penny wise, but pound foolish”, but nevertheless I am always on the lookout for a good deal.
I also had been on the lookout for a new case for my iPod, and since I’m also an avid user of public transit, all accompanying accessories including, but not limited to headphones, A/V cables and chargers. As mentioned before, I was drawn in the by the allure of clearance signs, a common occurrence which finds me in dark recesses of office supply stores and neighborhood markets, away from prying eyes.
Normally, I’d be remiss in finding the obvious comedy questioning the necessity of selling luggage in an airport, but after having jars of Midwestern Amish jam confiscated because it violated the TSA’s 3-1-1 rule not but months earlier. I can certainly see the validity of purchasing additional suitcases in an effort to retain those extra souvenirs. I digress.
On a rack, I saw a neon green bag. In the similar style, I also saw one in pink and one with polka dots. I checked the price tag. $2.50. Not a bad price. A deal is only as good as the comparison to the original price. On a nearby rack, the same product in a dark purple was $14. Obviously these hideous colors weren’t selling as well as their understated counterparts, hence the reason for the heavy discount. With a reinforced handle on the top and included adjustable shoulder strap, I deduced that this item was probably intended to be an ideal traveling shoulder bag, a fanny pack for the 21st century. I observed its features. 2 large main zippered compartments (ideal for holding my large noise-cancelling headphones and any necessary iPod cables. One small zippered pocket on the back, to provide quick and easy access to smaller, yet lesser used items. In the front there was a small mesh open pocket to probably hold a packet of gum or something. The feature that clinched the deal for me was the small zippered pocket on front of the bag, the perfect size to hold my iPod. This design choice was not made by accident. Personal accessory designers have been including small pouches like these because they provide quick and easy access to your entertainment device of your choosing whether it be an MP3 player or a wireless phone or something more low-tech like a deck of cards for example. All of which are approximately the same size.
Ever since I’ve had a car to call my own, I’ve kept an emergency kit in my trunk. Despite overheating engines, flat tires, running out of gas, a roadside mugging, and even spontaneous combustion, the item most often used in this kit is a pair of jumper cables. Wireless phones certainly come in handy as well, but during all those previous emergencies listed before, I did not own a phone. I could go on about how my parents paid for my sister to have a phone when she was in college and all she was doing was riding the bus. Mind you, she was meeting deadbeat mooches 12 years her senior and bringing them home to crash at Mom and Dad’s pad, but she didn’t need a phone for that.
Anyway, I’m getting off topic. One item I did include in my emergency kit that you wouldn’t find in any commercially available bundle is the deck of playing cards. I don’t know why they wouldn’t. It could add an additional 52 pieces to their collection, thus tricking the mild mannered consumer into getting even more than actually do. Have you noticed that? For instance, the automotive emergency kit advertises on its packaging of having 20 pieces. When you look at the list of items, it says it has 10 zip ties, 5 fuses, a flashlight with 2 batteries, the bag with the reflective triangle and some jumper cables. For those keeping track, it’s 20 pieces. I think I’ve proven my point.
Playing cards aren’t just for playing you. They’re there for you to play with them. Like what I did there? Aside from the obvious boredom buster of pulling up a rock or stump and huddling round playing a rousing game of “Go Fish” or if you’re stuck alone and friendless, Solitaire, a deck of playing cards has a very important survival role built in. For starters, if you’re stranded and there’s nary a bloodied volleyball to be found, you can find friendship in the face cards. With a little imagination, you could make up elaborate dramas and love triangles among the queens, jacks and kings. You could even speculate as to why the king of hearts is killing himself or what happened to a couple of the jacks’ other eyes.
What to do with the other cards you may ask. Well, given that most cards are made out of paper, albeit coated paper, theoretically you could use the cards to help start a fire. Maybe it’s the Eagle Scout in me, but I reckon they make for some pretty good kindling.
My sister recently graduated college, so we took a road trip to Las Cruces, New Mexico to spend a couple days with her surrounding the ceremony, load up her stuff from her apartment and drive back. My grandfather had unexpectedly passed away the month before and we all still miss him. I was named after him and I’ve been curious what other things I shared with him besides the name. As a career military man, he was very guarded, but not gruff or soulless. I just never knew him the way I would’ve liked to. I knew he liked to tinker, much like I do and his garage/workshop was a place of solitude for him. He was looking very much to going to the graduation, but unfortunately could not. My grandmother, despite his absence, still decided to go. Early in the morning we were to leave, I was helping my mom load her suitcases into the back of my grandparents’ car. There, in the trunk, were jugs of water in case he got stranded and his own version of an emergency kit. I didn’t see what was all in it, or know his reasons for what went into it, but on top there was one thing that caught my eye. It was a deck of playing cards. I knew then that he and I shared something without even communicating it to one another and for that, I will have an eternal bond with him.