So I’ve been eying reporter’s notebooks lately. They come in 4″x8″ sheets and look so newsie. You flip them up and back. Page after page. Held in one hand as you scribble furiously with the other. Walking, talking, it is your useful aid.
I like the look, but a problem unfolds. Where do I put it now that a cellphone occupies my front pocket?
I’ve debated purses. I think I might like something pink. But old habits. A man needs a jacket, not a purse. I walk away from pink and join the others. Coat with wide pockets for me.
So then comes the dilemma, which one. Which jacket fits my own particular lifestyle?
Well to begin with, I want something that is machine washable. Dry clean only is a recipe for bad smells. I prefer clean, and washed somewhat frequently. I trust my dryer and Bounty better for that.
There’s this gardening show on Netflix. A quickly constructed search yields no answers; but it’s with a British guy. Somewhat older. Obsessed with his field, practically styled. A work outfit. Presenting as a professional. Pants, shirt, coat. All designed to muck about in the dirt so much as talk to a tv camera.
That’s what I need. Solid work clothes that don’t require special attention but has me dressed in slacks not jeans. Maybe rocking a suit coat.
Pockets are the the reason. There is not space enough for all the attendant needs of modern living. My phone is a slate that fills my left pocket. Keys and smokes in the other. Wallets I hate, but maybe some cash and cards, somewhere.
I stare at purses with jealous envy as women walk by. There they have a space for the phone, the keys, the money, and so many more things. Life aids in so many occasions. Miraculous things have come to my aid thanks to a women and her trusty purse. Like headache tablets. Wet-wipes. Snacks. Mints. Road maps. Encyclopedia Britannica. Purses have this phenomenal ability to swallow anything. I want some of that.
But here I am a man, and inclined to follow convention. So jacket, here I come.
There’s space for a camera. Certainly a reporters notebook. A few contact details. A card or two. Some backup cash. Smokes. Lighters. The address of a good bar. I think I can do this.
But then inevitably the headache will come, and I’ll really need a drink of water, and curse that I didn’t get a purse.
Could I get a jacket and a purse?