I lost my cell phone last week. The weird part (or perhaps the stupid part) is where I lost it; inside my purse. It?s not that my purse is that big, it?s just that my cell phone is that small.
Since I keep my cell phone in my purse, it was, of course, the first place I looked. But it just wasn?t there. I emptied it out three times and I still couldn?t find it. All I found, aside from the usual items, were two dimes, a nickel, and a much appreciated stick of Juicy Fruit gum. I have always been partial to Juicy Fruit gum. What?s more, I like that guy who sings the old catchy Juicy Fruit jingle, even though the new commercial implies that he?s supposed to be irritating. But I like him. That?s right. I said it. And what?s more, I?ll tell you what I think is really irritating. The people who keep smashing his guitar right when he?s getting to the good part.
But I digress. I found spare change and the gum, but no phone. In the days to follow, I checked the vehicle, the house and called every business I had been to, and a few I hadn?t. Just when I figured my cell phone was lost forever, my purse started ringing. It had been there all along.
If I were more popular, I would have found my lost phone sooner. Or, as my husband pointed out, I could have simply phoned myself. But I didn?t. And that?s not the point. The point is, if I had Jerry Seinfield?s old phone, I wouldn?t have lost it in the first place. I wouldn?t have been able to close my purse, but I wouldn?t have lost it.
I love watching Seinfield reruns. When Jerry answers his phone that?s the size of a boot, and then – as if it weren?t long enough already – whips out the phone?s foot long antennae, well, it?s hilarious. I laugh harder at the phone than I do at his dialogue. And the phone size isn?t even the part that?s meant to be funny. I guess that?s what they mean when they say some things get funnier with time.
Of course, after losing my phone in my purse, I?m not sure it?s so funny after all. Maybe big really is beautiful. Size really does matter. If things keep going the way they are, we?re going to start losing our cell phones inside our ears.
According to a catalogue I recently received, I?m not the only one thinking big might be better. I was flipping through one of those gadget magazines aimed at Christmas shoppers, when there it was on page 16! A remote control measuring 11 inches by 5 inches and one inch thick. Now we?re talking some serious size. Try losing that sucker down the side of a couch! Never again will we have to suffer the words, ?Honey, have you seen the remote?? (And sometimes ?honey? gets substituted for other words, most of them short and none of them sweet.)
In my house of men, the remote rarely ends up in the same spot twice. They carry it with them for company when they head out for a food foraging expedition, where it ends up in the fridge beside the empty jar of peanut butter or in the bread box sniffing crumbs. One of them took it to work once, and it wasn?t even ?take a loved one to work? day. We?ve even found it in the foot of our son?s sleeping bag, in a tent, in the middle of the yard, a hundred metres from the nearest power source.
So a big remote is exciting stuff. In fact, there are a lot of things that we need to make bigger. Like keys. Although, and I hate to sound smug, I rarely lose my car keys. Early on in the game I came up with a fool proof system. I always put my keys in the same spot. It sounds nutty, but it works. Shut up about the cell phone already. And there was that time I lost my vehicle in the mall parking lot for the better part of an afternoon. And it wasn?t one of those compact vehicles neither. But that?s another column. Or not.
Shannon McKinnon is a syndicated humour columnist from the Peace River country. Visits her online at www.shannonmckinnon.com