Saturday, 2 July 2011

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The Magic Suitcase

It looks like it's packing day for me.  How have I come to this conclusion?  It's not that I have a need to be organized and prepared, forcing me to have an elaborate system of tasks that must be completed by a certain amount of time before departure.  I should have some sort of system, but I don't.  No, like almost every other man, I know it's time to pack when my wife leaves an empty suitcase out on the bed for me.

I don't mind packing, but there was a time, many years ago, when all I had to do was make the plans for the vacation and on departure day all the suitcases would be packed and ready to go, magically appearing by the door for me to load into the van. Upon arriving at our destination, I would open my suitcase to find the appropriate number of outfits, neatly organized,  alongside any toiletries that I could possibly need.  There were even spare outfits if the weather forecast for the area was mixed (This seems brilliant to me, actually checking the weather forecast.  I use the guys system of "Alaska-Cold, Mexico-Hot, Everywhere else-Warm.).  I was always well equipped and properly attired on these early vacations.  So what happened?  I made a horrible rookie mistake, and I complained.

It was just once, but as soon as the words left my mouth I could feel the glory days of travel slipping away.  In my defence, it was a five day trip to Vegas, and Lori forgot to pack me any underwear.  She insists that it was accidental, but I have my suspicions.  Really it was a win-win for her.  Either I said something, thus releasing her from packing for me ever again, or she got to spend five days laughing at me carefully shuffling around Vegas.  In hindsight I would have fit in just fine, walking around with a strange stride and adjusting myself all the time.  It would have been a small price to pay for continuing to possess the magic suitcase.  Alas, I was much younger and had only a few years of marriage experience, and once you choose the path travelled by all but the wisest of men, you can't go back.

So today I have to pack my own suitcase.  Let's see....13 days on the road in Florida (warm), and Seattle (warm), so I need underwear (you never forget it when you're packing for yourself), socks, t-shirts, ummm....oh pants, a toothbrush, deoderant, ummmm...*sigh*...I miss the magic suitcase.


  1. To me a "magic suitcase" would have more room at the end of the trip (for souvenirs and such) than at the start. Somehow shrinking items in the course of 16 day vacations strikes me more interesting. Thanks for the laughs Steve ... oh, and you couldn't buy underwear in Vegas? Do you have to win it a slot machine?

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