As many of you know, last Sunday was my birthday. (Sixty-five; Thanks for asking). Anyway, at this point in my life I am a pain in the shorts to shop for. Gifts for me fall into two and only two groups: stuff that's too expensive to contemplate seriously ( sports jacket, computers, dentures, etc.) and stuff that is sufficiently cheap that,when needed, I can buy for myself like sweaters, cute golf club head covers, shaving mugs (seriously does anyone actually use these things more than twice?). This issue makes birthdays, Christmas, and anniversaries a torturous exercise for my spouse.
I've tried making lists during the year when I see something I might like but no one can ever locate the list in early October or mid December. It might be useful to run out and buy a gift on the day after a possible present is discovered but really, no one is that organized.
This brings us to this year's birthday gift from my lovely spouse. On the fourteenth of October I was presented with a rich-looking box from Tumi. Inside ...a man bag; a purse by any other name.
We need to get a few issues out of the way: First, no man ever bought a man-bag for himself. The only male person ever to purchase one of these things bought it for his boyfriend. Not a homophobic slur, just a fact. Most men don't feel the need to carry a bunch of junk around in a clutch. God created pockets that we might carry wallets, keys, combs (what man needs a brush?), money and handkerchief ( a dying affectation). Sure, a beach bag makes sense and in ancient times, a camera bag made hauling lenses and film a virtual necessity. Laptop computers have made varying types of briefcases de rigueur but for everyday use, not so much. I'm sorry but any man over eighteen who walks the streets wearing a backpack has never looked at himself in a mirror.
Imagine dropping your man-bag on the bar at the Killarney Rose or Vito's Bar and Grille. Can you picture the grief you'll get when you toss your bag on to the scorers table at Stillson's Bowling Alley...unless, of course your purse can accommodate a bowling ball. What about meeting your girlfriend's parents for the first time or applying for a new job at the steel mill? Good luck explaining your choice of accessories to Spike, the guy next to you on the assembly line. Truthfully, anything you wear that requires an explanation is a bad idea. No one needs to explain an umbrella.
Besides, the dirty little secret about man-bags is that before you know it, you will start hauling tons of junk that you don't need just because you have someplace to put it. Don't take my word for it. Ask your wife. That pack of Altoids that's been in your desk since you got hired, sure, let's bring it. You never know. The train schedule that you have had memorized for fifteen years, why not? That tire pressure gauge that you can never find when you need it, absolutely. Tissues, change, stamps, fifteen or twenty extra photos of your grandchild. Holy crap I need a bigger bag.
OK I admit it, the bag works pretty well if you're traveling and if you have an ipad... and a map...and a Frommer's guide...and a brochure from the tourist attraction you just visited. Really, no one with an once of self-respect would be caught dead wearing a fanny pack. Carried like a messenger bag I'm less likely to leave my $700 Apple tablet in a church pew in Prague or a Rathskeller in Wurtzburg. Ohmygod! I've had the thing for less than a week and I'm already thinking about a matching scarf. (OK maybe that was a bit homophobic.) The point is, I'm not taking it back. I'll make an effort to use it for vacations and for local outings. Who knows? If it's big enough maybe I can bring my shaving mug to Europe.
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