Lost

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Don't you hate the feeling of losing something that you just had a moment before? Of course, we can put it into context of the big picture and understand that we are losing things from the first day on, but I'm talking something that you adjusted in your pocket, then couldn't find.

I was on a job today, climbed up five floors of scaffold, checked my pocket to make sure I had all the crap I usually carry - phone - check, chew - check, pen - check, digital camera - check - all good as I reached the top.

I even did a deep bend, surprised that I didn't feel any more back pain - things were good. I discussed a couple of things with one of the owners, ducked under a scaffold frame, felt the back twist, thought about whether or not the crap had shifted in my pocket. Yet, the guy was moving fast, unencumbered by degeneration of the neck discs, pockets empty.

I followed. He was talking but I was thinking that I had another chiropractor appointment set - the back would be snapped back again. He tripped over a loose piece of plywood, I tripped too. Did the crap in my pocket shift?

Jumped back in the car and headed for the next site - phone - check, chew - check, pen - check, digital camera - digital camera? - digital camera? Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?

And there's the feeling - lost - I lost the damn camera!

So where do I start looking? In the car, of course. I check the glove compartment that I haven't opened since I bought the car. I check the inside of my hard hat. How in the hell would it get in there?

I think about the last time that I held it so tenderly, my finger on its little button, and I get a little misty thinking that it may have plunged to its death fifty or so feet from the scaffold platform. It was such a nice camera.

I get down on my knees and check the seats under my car. And suddenly I'm thinking about life without my silver camera. I had a few site photos on there - reports will be a lot easier to write tonight. I head back to the job. There's no one there other than a security guard walking around.

"Anyone turn in a camera?" I ask. I'm praying for St. Anthony as I kick around the grounds. Rumor is St. Anthony helps people find things. He shakes his head - no - my eyes are definitely growing misty.

I head to the foot of the scaffold - nothing. I feel like calling its name - but I forgot that I never really gave it a name. I should've named him - I would have called him Flash.

Head to Office Max - feel bad for my lost companion. Buy a new camera - it's black - I immediately call him Blackie and press his little button to make sure he works. He's all right - just not Flash.

Where do things go when they're lost? Just gone, I suppose.

Perhaps someone will find Flash and nurse him back to health. More likely, he will lay there and get rained on, and swept up into the next dumpster.

Yet I will remember him - I swear!

(Ok - after reading this one over - I may have officially lost it.)

Flash?

Blackie?

(God Help Me)

Comments

Carrie Lynn Fazzolari said…
You might be losing it, but that was funny... I chuckled. I feel bad for Flash now...
23 March, 2010
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