Saturday, September 24, 2005

Hot Pockets

Pockets and how I use them popped into my cranial void the other day. I was emptying my pockets at the end of the day. I took an inventory of what I pulled out. Let's see. $2.23 in change, $7 in crumpled ones, 2 Receipts, 3 reminder slips that failed to remind, 4 bic lighters, and a pocket knife. Also an oddly shaped rock I found awhile ago and oddly, still resides in my pocket. Throw in a passle of keys, most of which are not needed but I carry them anyway. Top it all off with a spoke wrench I forgot to leave at the shop. An intimidating pile when viewed as one lump. But distribute it among the many pockets I have and the load just disappears. Damn, I love my pockets.

A simple and functional add on to our clothes, pockets allow us to seperate, collate, and integrate all those small items we just have to have along for our daily grunts. Keys and knife in the right pocket, change in the left. That cool rock in with the knife, but the lighters with change. The various slips of paper accumulated throughout the day in any pocket that is handy. A man can carry all his daily needs conveniently stashed but instantly available as needed. Taken for granted until the hole in one of them allows my favorite knife to escape to look for a new owner. I never seem to appreciate their worth until they fail me.

Now a purse on the other hand makes no sense to me. All our stuff jumbled up together in one pile. To find anything, 10 things have to be moved, removed, or shoved out of the way. I grew up watching my mother flounder elbow deep in her purse. When she had to dig deep, everything came out and was scattered as she frantically looked for that which was unfound. A pocket on the other hand, limits the search to a much smaller area. And often, the sought item can be located by braille through the outer layer. "Ah, there's that knife. What was I thinking? Put it in the wrong pocket". 15 seconds of panic verse 3 or 4 minutes of purse antics. Pockets rule, purses drool.