I put my wallet on

August 29, 2003

I put my wallet on the roof of the car and put my things on the passenger seat. I didn’t look for it again until I was at the hockey store to pick up the boy’s newly sharpened skates. Must have left it at home. It was very hot and I could really feel it now. Sleep deprivation had opened my pores and screwed with my thermostat. I retraced my steps thrice and enlisted my reluctant minions to comb the property. Nothing. With the faith that it would come back to me I went about my very cranky business. I woke up twenty minutes later as my daughter said, “Dad? Shouldn’t you be looking for your wallet?”. I said, “I am. Einstein said, 'think differently'. I am thinking differently and I will find it”. Then I drove off and played road hockey in the shade right next to bright sunshine. The cell phone beeped from the gym bag and my daughter came on the line and bubbled, “a woman named Karen just came by with your wallet. She found it in the street and I think its all here but I think its been run over by a car.” The image of a wallet that has been run over by a car strikes me as life imitating art. Fond family pictures, receipts and I.D. rasped, bent and askew. My mug shot pokes out at the bottom to indicate who’s life story is being told.