Going from Point A to Point B

Getting From Point A to Point B



As a young woman I usually carried what I needed in my pockets. Keys, money, a Kleenex or two, cigarettes, matches, they usually fit well in warm bulky jackets with pockets. I’d never purchase anything to wear unless it had pockets.



Later on, I carried a purse. At first, your purse doesn’t have much in it, and you actually go around looking for things to put in it. After a while, it becomes quite heavy, mainly because while you continue to put things into it, you rarely remove anything on a permanent basis.



In it, the list of necessary items seems to expand and grow. Peering into one of my satchels you could find a comb, a brush, a pocketbook (in case I got stuck in an elevator and needed something to read); makeup, wallet, more keys, more Kleenex and a multitude of small items including a nail-file, cigarettes, lighter, and endless scraps of paper with people’s phone numbers on them or lists of things to do. There was always a few pens and a notebook as well and a chocolate bar, (in case I got hungry in the elevator). The purses would get bigger and heavier, every year.



One year I read an article about women hauling these bulky things around all the time and the doctor was suggesting them as the source for a variety of backaches. I thought to myself, “Well that makes sense.” I immediately went through my purse. I had bills I had paid, bills I had to pay, I had old chocolate bars, and a book I was no longer interested in reading, and wide variety of things in there that should have been thrown away or put somewhere. In any event most of this “stuff” was getting a lot more travel than I’d ever had in a lifetime.



So I chose a petite handbag that had become the fashion of the day and since it couldn’t accommodate many of the things I had become accustomed to carrying around, I had to change my habits.



I began to carry all those bigger items in my car. I started with the glove compartment, which is pretty big if it’s truly built for a pair of gloves. My car became a purse with wheels. The list of necessary things expanded to meet the space. Now I had a blanket, a pillow and candles, and a safety kit, and flares and caution things in case I got stuck on the road. I even had a sign that said, “PLEASE CALL THE POLICE”, in case I got mugged and left in my car. I had an umbrella, a raincoat, and sometimes an extra pair of shoes and or, boots in there. I had a shovel, a garbage bag for empty coffee cups and other messy things. I had a damp facecloth in a plastic bag, and a towel for quick cleanups. In the trunk, there was much more room so, I carried a bag of sand and one of road salt. I tried to meet all the needs of the unforeseen disasters that might befall me, in this storage unit that was once a car. I can’t remember ever using any of them, except the garbage bag, a bit of sand now and then, and perhaps the shovel.



Now I look at this small handbag I’ve been using and see it bursting at the seams because I’m still trying to cram too many things into it and I contemplate the mania behind it.



Last year I went to California. It was my first real trip anywhere. I went alone and chose my luggage with great care, and all the things I would take with me.



I arrived at the airport with four heavily laden pieces of luggage. Some of it was so heavy I had to get my body-building son to help me take it into the airport. Once there, I learned that when you travel, they add up the weight of what you’re carrying, and charge you more money if you exceed their policy levels. Most sensible people would reach out and give one of the bags to their son to take back home, but since I couldn’t remember what I had packed, and where, I didn’t do that. I paid more for the extra weight and happily found my way on a plane headed for New Jersey.



It was a small plane and at first I wondered if I was on the right plane, but according to my ticket which I seemed to read over and over as though it was a prize-winning novel, all was well and I was headed in the right direction. But they seemed to be taking the longer route to California in my mind.



New Jersey, I later discovered is one of about ten airports all connected to one another. Once I arrived there, I realized I was expected to collect my luggage personally, and take it to another airport on a bus and turn it over to airline agents and customs officials. In an instant, the glamor of travel I had witnessed in hundreds of movies and magazines fragmented on my biological hard drive.



Once on the larger plane, I settled down to enjoy the scenery and forgot all about the luggage, and pondered on how amazing it was that I could fly for hours and hours and bring all this “stuff” with me to a completely new location.



After arriving in California, I discovered that one of my bags, the larger one, had burst a seam in the handling process and I would likely have to replace it if I was to get all my things back home again.



However, on the return trip I decided I would have less to drag along. Some of what I carried were gifts for my friends. That space was quickly filled with the things I purchased while I was there. In addition, there were several other items that went missing or had gotten lost during my stay and I really never noticed until I returned home again and went looking for them months later. These included things like a computer cable, my Sherlock Holmes magnifying glass, a hair dryer and several other smaller things.



Although my bags seemed lighter on the return trip I really didn’t wonder why, and I had to repair the broken carryall with surgical tape to keep it together long enough to reach my destination.



Once I was back in my own familiar territory, and sitting on my porch thinking about all this... “take it all with you” mania, I decided on a few guidelines I would try to establish for myself.



My list went something like this:

#1. Always travel light. We come into this world with nothing and we will leave it with nothing. Besides, there’s a certain joy in watching someone in the airport struggling with a lot of stuff.



#2. Depend on no one. Anything or anybody beyond the surface of your skin may require a gratuity.



#3. If you haven’t used it in six months or a year, chances are, you won’t need it. Be ruthless and discard the unnecessary. (Except your income tax records. You must keep them for six years, at all times.)



#4. Clean out your car. If something is going to happen, carry a cell phone to get help. (Just make sure you run into trouble in an area where the cell phone will actually work.)



#5. Clean out your purse. It’s a “purse”… for gawd’s sake, not a filing cabinet!



#6. If you live in a cold country, don’t buy new clothes to go to a warm country. Wait until you arrive in the warm country and buy new things there. It might rain all the time you’re actually there.



#7. Don’t carry anything you can borrow. It’s about time someone else’s stuff went missing.



#8. As you reach certain stages in your life there are things you can dispense with. Maintaining an emotional attachment to inanimate objects is a waste of time. They will not return the affection. Better to shower your family and friends with that affection.



#10. Getting rid of things is sometimes a great way to lose weight. Toss off all the bags of guilt you don’t’ deserve and didn’t earn or those that are not your own.



Keep a positive attitude about yourself and everything you do. Even the most difficult goals can be achieved if you’re willing to extend yourself.



And finally…

You will remember all of the above, if you carry a smaller purse.



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