The sunglasses arrived in a smooth leather case. Removing them, I noted the debonair black frames, the stylish smoke lenses and the sturdy springs that would hold the glasses firmly to my temples.
“What do you think?” asked my wife, the purchaser of this Father’s Day gift.
“They’re amazing,” I said. “Where’s the gift receipt?”
“You’re not going to return them, are you?” she asked, a hurtful tone creeping into her voice. “You just called them ‘amazing.’”
“They are. And within two weeks, they will also be lost,” I said. “You might as well just hand me $300 to flush down a drain.”
“Just take care of these,” she said.
Famous last words.
When it comes to items that should be equipped with a GPS, my choice would be sunglasses. And pens. Hand me either and I will make them vanish faster than any magician appearing nightly on the Las Vegas strip. The problem is, the items I lose never reappear. I can’t explain my carelessness or absent-mindedness when it comes to pens and sunglasses. I have never lost my phone, never been unable to locate my car in a crowded parking lot and never misplaced either of my children. OK, I did briefly get separated from my 10-year old niece at a Milwaukee music festival several years ago, a feeling of panic I wouldn’t wish on any adult. I found her moments before my wife suggested I interrupt a local band’s set by sauntering onto the stage, grabbing a microphone and describing a fourth-grader in vivid detail.
The “if it’s expensive, you’ll take better care of it” theory never works on me. Sunglasses from designer brands like Versace, Ray-Ban and Oakley serve the same purpose as any pair spinning on a plastic rack at the local sundry store. Which means they have just as much chance of being left at a picnic, dropped in beach sand or tumbling to the bottom of a lake when their owner bends down to grab a beer out of the boat cooler. If it’s not clear by now, I have lost sunglasses via all of these scenarios.
The same holds true of pens. A Mont Blanc can’t produce a grocery list any easier than something made by Bic. But it can be lost just as easily. Which is why, after having to admit to my wife that I no longer possessed the Mont Blanc she gave me for my birthday several years ago, I vowed never to write with anything costing over 99 cents. These days, I rarely use pens, preferring to write all my prose via a word processing program and secure in knowing I won’t be tearing the house apart screaming, “Has anybody seen my iMac? You know, the one with the 21-inch screen?”
I asked my wife’s girlfriends what items they are constantly losing. The answers ranged from lipstick, to phone charging cords, to reading glasses. I no longer lose the latter now that I know they are available in three-packs from my neighborhood Costco. One pair for the bedroom, asecond for the family room and a third for my car. Problem solved. Sadly, I can’t afford to buy Ray-Bans in bulk.
Companies like Tile and Spy Tec advertise products that can be clipped to car keys and purses and located via an app. I briefly tried Tile for my keys but abandoned it a year later, having never needed its assistance. Unfortunately, a tracking device hanging from my sunglasses would not produce the hip summer look I’m going for.
So, I will continue to shun pricey eyewear and writing instruments, preferring to purchase both from The Dollar Store whenever possible. If anybody has a solution for my forgetfulness, feel free to reach out via email and I will respond.
For I have never lost my keyboard.
