finding things

I’m pretty good at finding lost things . There’s usually a logic to it all . I take a deep breath and try to think through the logic. It works pretty well .

Ada panics and immediately rushes around looking for whatever —– lost eye glasses are a normal lost item . She looks furiously in all of the wrong places. Reminds me of the guy who saw a man painting the side of his house furiously slapping on paint like there was no tomorrow . The guy looked up to the sky to see if it looked like rain was coming. Nope, so he approached the painter and asked him why he was working so furiously fast. The painter said that he was almost out of paint and he wanted to finish the job before he ran out of it.

Never mind.

Why are lost items always in the last place you look ! Oh , Ada usually finds the lost item , but after a troubled few minutes of near- hysteria ( okay , maybe I exaggerate a bit ) .

My method is to look in one of the places where I always ( always ! ) put the particular item in question . I put my eyeglasses , for example , in one of three places . That way I can find them when I need them . Otherwise chaos would reign and I’d be endlessly rushing around the house searching ( like some people we know !) . That wouldn’t do .

When I look in the designated places for my glasses and the things are not there I first ask Ada. She usually chides me for accusing her of taking them ; but half the time she has them because she’s misplaced hers and mine were available .

If she doesn’t have them I think . My mind works like a fine-tune gumball machine . Little gummy round colorful thoughts drop down noisily in no time . Open that little door and grab them . Works like a charm —– usually .

Okay , now one example :

We were up on the moountain at our little A-frame cabin yesterday . Ada was applying stain to the front door and I was beginning to straighten up the unfinished basement —– Let things go for a year or so and see what happens ! First , there was a pile of empty large contractor trash bags. I began pulling them out one by one . My first thought was to fold each one neatly and stuff them somewhere out of the way , but I immediately realized that there were way too many of them to do that. I’d be folding forever ; I’d be there all day ; and in the end I don’t fold things too neatly anyway ; so I decided to stuff them all in one of the bags , and I did.

That day I had hung my eye glasses on the front collar of my T-shirt , as people do . When I went back up to inspect Ada’s work ( despite the fact that she is much more meticulous and precise than I am , and she was undoubtedly doing a fine job ) I realized that I needed my glasses to check for bubbles in the finish on the door . ” Quality control !” she was calling out .

It then occured to me that my glasses had been hanging a couple of minutes ago from the collar of my shirt . They were gone. They had no doubt fallen during the time I had been perpetrating the trash bag caper .

Easy . I carefully walked the route down the side of the cabin to the door of the basement . I checked the area methodically and carefully in order not to step on the little lost item . Nothing. I stepped into the basement and checked there . I removed some of the junk on the floor near the door just in case the glasses had slipped inside of something or under something . Nothing. No luck .

I walked the route again and re-checked —- because that’s what I do . I then check a third time , employing a strange but persistent magical thinking and a latent hope in my bones that sometimes true miracles happen . Nothing . I checked the designated places inside of the house where I

always put my glasses — just in case my mind was playing tricks on my and my glasses hadn’t actually been hanging from my shirt after all . Perhaps my memory was playing a tiny trick on me and I had left the glasses inside the house ; but , no such luck .

I knew where I had to look next . There was only one place left to look . It’s a good thing that I’m retired and that I have so much time to look without having the nagging feeling in my head that I have much more vital work to do that I should be getting to . If they were not in this last logical hiding place then I’d have to give up hope of finding them ; have to give in to the total mystery of it all ; have to accept my sorry fate and go to Plan B on the eye glasses front . (Always have a Plan B.)

I slowly and carefully extracted each black garbage bag from the garbage bag that held them. I shook each one carefully before reaching for the next . I was careful . Mommy would have been proud of me . I eventually had the mother bag empty of her plastic children , and there at the bottom , resting all by itself , smiling smugly at me , I think , was my pair of eye glasses .

Nice game , I thought . Good mischief for today ! Even eye-glasses need a little entertainment from time to time . But those little needed buggers were found and all was right with the world . Mystery solved . No hard feelings .


Filed under humor

4 responses to “finding things

  1. Great post, Dan. My glasses also reside in a few trusted places. When I don’t put them there, chaos thrives. I once accidentally put my wife’s glasses on. Our prescriptions are so different that I almost threw up.

  2. Being Catholic, I call on St. Anthony in serious cases. Works every time. I have him on speed dial in my old age.

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