While attempting to organise myself before leaving the house this morning I ran out of pockets. While this normally wouldn’t be such a huge problem, if you’re about to sit on a train for several hours, as I have done rather too frequently recently, you will know exactly why I might need so many pockets.
By way of explaining the items that fill my bag and pockets, it might be worth doing an inventory of my person as I sit here on the train.
The seat next to me is filled at present with my coat (not needed as the sun seems to be winning the battle this morning), and messenger bag. This is the new improved bagson of Macbook bagand it contains all manner of goodies.
I now understand about the tardis like properties of ladies handbags. I swearyou can reach into this reasonably sized shoulder bag until your arm vanishes up to your shoulder. Perhaps it’s best feature though is a diamond shaped badge on the front with the words “Danger Rocks!” emblazoned upon it, with a picture of a man falling from a precipice to his death.
The bag contains a Moleskine notebook, a fountain pen, a Nintendo DS, several game cartridges, a mobile phone charger, and the charger for the EEE PC, which would normally live in the bag but is at this moment precariously perched on my lap as I hurtle through the morning sunshine on a decrepit train. The EEE PC fits in the bag, as does my rain coat.
The bag also contains a Palm Tungsten 2Ewhich I have discovered is actually better than an iPod for listening to podcastspurely because it affords me the ability to pause them, and to scribble notes while listening to website picks from Leo Laporte, Amber MacArthur, Merlin Mann and friends.
My left trouser pocket is filled a bunch of keys. House keys, bike lock keys, and an unfeasibly large keyring with my first name on it in large letterslest I forget who I am in a moment of stress or madness. The bunch of keys also holds two USB keyrings. One wins all the geek prizes in one goit is a swiss army knife with pen, scissors, light, knife, and 64Mb flash drive built in. And a nail file. I think of the nail file more as a screwdriver. The other USB key is a gargantuan storage deviceten times the size of my first hard drive.
My right trouser pocket is filled with my wallet and mobile phone. I am experimenting with a wallet I was bought for christmasa leather one that has no room for change. At first it was strangenot having a 2kg lump in my pocket that could double as an offensive weapon in the hands of MacGuyver.
The pocket of my shirt contains three passes. One has my photo on it and affords me free passage on overground trains between home and London. Free is of course “free as in freedom” - it actually costs 260 a month (about 500 dollars), paid for by work. Another pass is an “Oyster Card” - which grants me immediate access to underground services throughout London without buying tickets for each journey. The final pass gets me through various doorways in the building I will arrive at later this morning. Sometimes it fails to register with doors as you approach and results in scenes that look like you have a door fetish if your hands are already full.
Attached to the edge of my shirt pocket is an iPod shuffle. At present it is filling my ears with Thomas Dolbypurchased under threat a few months ago from a good friend who was his tour manager once upon a time. The only downside to the shuffle is you don’t know what on earth you are listening toit has no display, and if you are anything like me your brain just doesn’t remember lyrics.
That’s itno more pockets. If the coat is pushed into the messenger bag, that’s pretty much out of commission. If you cram too many things into your trouser pockets, you end up looking like a spinning top.
I forgot one thing. The messenger bag also contains a book. At present the book is “Catcher in the Rye” - which I have not started reading, but appeals to me because it will make fellow commuters think I am planning an assassination. You do know about that conspiracy theory don’t you?