Desperately looking for a topic today as I wasn’t able to successfully published a post yesterday. Truth be told, I’m a little bit addicted to the visitor count, not sure why as I do this more for myself than anything else. Kind of like a journal that I’ll be able to look back on someday. It’s still nice to have a following and maybe I will someday. My wife religiously reads my work and shares it with the old folks at her work. Good enough for now.
Lori, say hi to Helen for me.
So I’m sitting here wondering what to write about, fingering the soft leather on my briefcase, one of my many briefcases. Thinking how I give my wife a hard time about her bag fetish. She has a bag for everything, in every colour, every size and material. The house is overflowing with bags. Drives me crazy.
Then there are my bags…
I have a gym bag for soccer and one for the gym. I have a backpack that holds water, for running or biking, never used it. There are backpacks for computers and paperwork, used primarily for work or travel.
Then there’s the briefcases…
Many years ago, when my son started out at University, he had to have a bag to carry his MacBook. Any bag wouldn’t do, he’s carrying a Mac. We ended up getting him a leather messenger bag from Roots. The leather was soft, rich, thick and the perfect colour. A bag that would last a lifetime. I secretly fell in love with it but the bag was obviously designed for something better than my lowly Windows machine.
Many years have passed, my son is still in University and that Roots bag looks even better, a little worn in. He has since put it away in favour of a backpack. The bag lies forgotten in his closet, wrapped in it’s own special bag.
Eventually, over many years, my son convinced me to buy a MacBook. Life simply couldn’t go on without one, I was told. But something was missing… a good bag.
One day, while looking for a new leather jacket for my wife, I found not one, but two leather briefcases. A helpful employee mentioned they were on sale… cheap. I bought both. Total cost was less than half what that Roots bag cost.
A year later, in the same store, I was looking for a purse (for my wife). Once again, a helpful employee pointed out the leather briefcases that were on sale… cheap. I bought another. Closing in on what I paid for that Roots bag.
One Mac, three bags…
I was admiring my new bag at home when my son spotted it, fell in love with it and asked if he could have it. An argument ensued, things were said, the leather was man-handled and sniffed for quality when the magic words were said.
Dad, want to trade?
the dan blog 