Shoulder Bags and Other Accessories

March 16, 2013

Shoulder Bags and Other Accessories

            Some of my fondest childhood memories have to do with our weekly summertime routine of driving around to yard sales, more honestly called rummage sales in those days.  My mother and another neighborhood mom would throw all the kids in the car and off we would go on our treasure hunt. In the old days there was some economic necessity involved in searching for a good bargain at a yard sale.  These days, however, the excitement of a unique find is my primary motivation. I still love a good flea market, estate sale, or, even, a trip to Goodwill.  The local Value Village has a half off sale the last Wednesday of every month……I mark it on my calendar.  Coming from that kind of background, it’s no surprise, then, that one of the most delightful aspects of my daily walk is all the cool stuff I find on the shoulder of the road.

            The first thing I remember finding on my walk was a promotional bag made from recyclable materials like the reusable shopping bags sold in grocery stores.  The name imprinted on the side sounded like a technology firm or a pharmaceutical company-----“Mega-prima-dyne” or “Ultra-acme-sync.”  Anyway, it was a clean and dry, tan bag with a drawstring that I used to bundle up some clothes for Goodwill---circle of life.

            I’ve come across several more bags in the last year, but a lot of other things as well.  Of course, I’ve found money, lots and lots of pennies, but quite a bit of other change, too.  I even found a dollar bill one morning after a nighttime storm.  Clinging damply to the grass at the edge of the pavement, in another ten minutes it would have been dry enough to flutter away.  How the money gets on the road intrigues me.  Do people throw money out car windows?  Are there really enough numbers of people walking on the road with holes in their pockets or change falling out of their pants to account for the amounts I find? I figure I’m averaging two or three cents a day. I’m saving for a Lexus.

            Another puzzle had to do with the number of razor blades I noticed on the shoulder of the highway.  Why would people throw single-edged razor blades out the car window?  The answer came to me after I saw the first of many discarded syringes.  I’ve noted in an earlier post that lots of interesting activities are occurring in cars traveling along the highway.  Obviously, there are some terrifying ones as well.

            Happily, I’ll never have to buy another bungee cord.  I’ve found eight of them this year.  Most of them have been the black, thick rubber kind clearly meant for heavy duty tasks, but there have been a few light-weight, colorful ones, too.  I imagine ladies with gardening gloves using those to secure flats of annuals in the back of their Volvos.   I wouldn’t have thought that there’s a lot of skill involved in using a bungee cord, but, clearly from the number I’ve found on the road, I don’t understand the expertise required.

                        My long list of found objects includes a fan belt, a pair of safety goggles, three pairs of sunglasses, a grouting sponge—still in the package, most of a roll of weed whacker string, a nut driver—which sounds provocative, but is just a hand tool—which sounds provocative, a pair of work gloves, and a crowbar. Why does a heavy, metal crowbar get thrown to the side of the road….someone trying to ditch the evidence?  I also found a Missouri vehicle license plate and an Illinois driver’s license.  The driver’s license belonged to a twenty-something young man with light brown hair and blue eyes. I anonymously mailed the license back to the address on the card.  I imagine the kid reacting either happily—“Hey, dude! Somebody sent my license back!”—or in freaked paranoia—“Duuude…..who would send my license back?”  Both scenarios make me grin.

            Speaking of grinning, in December I found the treasure that brought the biggest smile to my face.  Lying in the grass, all shiny red and round, was a giant Rudolph nose that had obviously fallen off the front of someone’s automobile.  I attached it to my own car, and, throughout the holidays, the sight of it never failed to make me giggle.  Next year I hope to find the antlers.

            Lots of children’s toys and parts of toys end up on the side of the road.  When I spy their bright, primary colors or sparkly pieces of trim, I wonder if they’ve been accidentally dropped or deliberately tossed, the victims of a cruel older sibling or a fed up parent.  The most disturbing toy part I discovered was a tiny, disembodied Santa head that stared at me with blank, black eyes and a benign smile as it rolled gently back and forth in the breeze—a very Stephen King moment.  Recently, I found an intact blue and orange, plastic space gun.  I’m certain it was set for stun before its intrepid owner was forced by some marauding alien to drop it on the side of the road.  I’ll keep it close at hand in case I encounter the nasty fellow on my daily walk, and he tries to snatch one of my found treasures.

The Cold Shoulder

March 9, 2013

The Cold Shoulder

            Long underwear has never been a fashion consideration for me. Even when I saw them in an old movie or in a Three Stooges rerun, I never thought, “Hmm, now there’s a look.”   So finding myself standing in a department store considering the merits of one kind of long underwear over another was a completely novel situation.

            I realized around the end of October that, if I planned to keep walking into the fall and winter, I would have to make some specialized clothing purchases. An acquaintance of mine once camped out in Yellowstone or the Grand Canyon—I forget which—in the dead of winter.  She described how despite all the high-tech equipment her group used, they all slept with small piles of M&M’s on their chests, so they would have a vital source of energy close at hand when uncontrollable shivering woke them periodically throughout the night.  The story was told with much pride in their accomplishment and fortitude, but I never understood the appeal. I had no intention of trudging my way through piles of snow in sub-zero temperatures. I just wanted to be able to maintain my walking routine as far into the winter as comfortably possible, emphasis on comfortably.

            Despite my vision of a derby-wearing Pa Kettle in a heavy, thermal union suit with that handy button flap in the back, the long underwear I ultimately purchased was delightful.  Thin and silky, its sensual, caressing quality was unexpected. It slipped softly over my skin and smoothly under my workout clothes. Frequently after finishing my walk, I would pad around the house in my filmy, winter undergarments just because they felt so good.

            The other apparel I was forced to don against the cold weather was less appealing.  There was too much bulk. After all, my goal was to shrink my silhouette, to move more gracefully and lightly through the world, not to add layers to my frame and shuffle my way down the road.  I didn’t like wearing hats or scarves; my hair kept the first from fitting properly, and the latter made me too warm. Thin gloves didn’t provide enough protection from the cold, and thick ones felt awkward and caused my hands to sweat.  I did purchase a cool pair of earmuffs with built-in headphones for my iPod.  I thought they’d be a perfect way to keep my ears warm and listen to my playlist.  The problem with them was two-fold.  They made my ears too hot, and I couldn’t remove one side to listen for the traffic on my small subdivision street.  I spent most of the cold season adding and dropping various articles of clothing, trying to get the balance just right…without much success.

            Becoming a long john wearer wasn’t the only thing that ended up surprising me about my cold weather walks.  My plan, initially, was to simply endure, to shoulder through the daily challenge because continued walking was necessary for my self-improvement program. I would simply grit my teeth and get through the ordeal each day.  So I was pleasantly surprised when I realized that I was enjoying my chilly strolls. Even though I no longer walked under the vivid, blue skies of summer or surrounded by brilliant autumn colors, like a man comparing the airbrushed picture of a magazine model to the real girl, I came to appreciate the unadorned loveliness of a winter day. There was unexpected beauty in the bare limbs of the trees, in the slate grey skies, and the breathy puffs of vapor that punctuated my climbing. The shapes of distant hills were easier to see, and a lake hidden by foliage in the warmer months was revealed in the cold clarity of winter.

            Although more plentiful in summer, wildlife seemed more noticeable, ironically, in the cold season.  A lone hawk high in a tree was easier to spy with no leaves as camouflage.  Squirrels and rabbits provided entertainment as they scurried around in the thinner underbrush of the season.  Even the occasional deer could be seen wandering through the trees.   When there was snow on the ground, all sorts of tracks were visible.  I recognized the big trident of the turkey and the double half moon print of a deer, but the rest were an interesting mystery.  Just recently as I walked along the highway, a flash of brilliant blue caught my eye, and I watched a bluebird perch on a bare limb.  I laughed aloud as he stared grumpily at me, puffed out his feathers to ward off the cold and became the spitting image of one of those famous Angry Birds.

            So now in these days between the end of winter and the beginning of spring when the tiniest hint of change is showing on the trees, as I reluctantly fold away my silky long johns for the season, I feel a certain nostalgia for my chilly strolls.  Contrary to conventional wisdom, the cold shoulder is lovely and welcoming.