Remember Karl Malden’s commercials back in the 70’s for American Express Traveler’s Cheques? “Never leave home without them!” Remember? (Shut up, you fuckers who weren’t even alive in the 70’s. Youth is entirely overvalued. A smooth forehead cannot make up for missing cool shit like Tony Orlando and Dawn, Pong, and disco balls. No, disco balls are not the bedazzled testicles of gay men. Although that would be kinda cool. But probably painful.)
If you don’t remember Karl, titleholder of one monumental schnoz—in which there existed a small, underdeveloped country with poor water quality and mud for dinner, or maybe a ball field—then you can look him up on YouTube. He touted traveler’s checks in a time before debit cards made them obsolete; but his message was that in case of “unexpected” emergency, there are certain fundamentals one should never leave at home. (Is there ever really any other kind of emergency than “unexpected”? Planned amputation? Tornado on purpose? I don’t know.)
For example, a woman should always tote an extra feminine product for those unforeseen red tsunamis, which invariably occur before Labor Day when she is still wearing white. Unless you are trashy and wear white after Labor Day. But then you are not reading this because you are not my friend.
One should never leave home without a granola bar (unexpected hunger), a cell phone (unexpected abduction), a pair of tweezers (unexpected chin hair), and a surgical clamp (unexpected birth when you thought you had just been eating too many KitKats lately, or other medical surprise). Here’s the MOST important thing never, ever to leave at home for any reason. Ever: Your freaking computer.
If you are a writer, you never know when an opportunity for readership may arise. Take yesterday, for instance. I went out of town and left my ever-loving laptop behind. When it became apparent that I would not make it back home in time to write my blog for the day, I could’ve beaten the bloody shit out of myself. I didn’t, though, because I wasn’t carrying an extra pad.
P. S.- Dear tens of readers, I promise not to miss a day again.