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The Black Bag

7/29/2019

2 Comments

 
Picture
        “Where’s your black bag?”
        The question came from the back seat of the car I was driving. We were following the lead car, driven by my husband. After racing around a barnyard playground, jumping on giant inflatables and ripping along ziplines on a traditional fun farm in southwestern Ontario, my passengers---two 11-year-old girls and their Korean grandmother---were heading home. My husband’s lead car held the Korean grandfather and two more 11-year-olds.
        “Pardon?” I asked our young backseat passenger who was translating for her grandmother.
        “Where is your black bag? My grandma wants to know if you have your black bag.”

        “You mean my purse.”
        I paused. Thinking.
        Then said, “I do. Tell her it’s in the trunk.”
        I could hear the girl translating my words.
        “She means the other black bag. The one with my cell in it.”
        Uh-oh. I did not have the other black canvas bag. I assumed---never assume I know---someone else had taken responsibility for it.
        “I do not know where the black canvas bag is. Is it in the back seat with you girls?”
        Fingers crossed.
        “No.”
        “Oh, my goodness. (Actually, I muttered an expletive here.) We need to turn around. Go back to the farm,” I panicked. “But first we need to let the lead car know what we’re doing.”
Picture
        Unfortunately, we were dependent on the cell phone to call my husband in the lead car. The cell was now missing. It was in the black canvas bag left behind at the farm.
        How to attract attention so the lead car will stop?
        Honk. Honk. Honk. Honk. Multi, short shrill blasts as I leaned on the horn.
        No reaction from the lead car.
      So I opened the sun/moon (what is the difference please?) roof and while still driving to keep up with the lead, I stuck my arm out the open top and waved. And waved. And waved. Frantically. So did the girls. To get the lead car’s attention. We caught everyone else’s attention. Including the farmer atop a slow, lumbering hay wagon. The Korean grandmother looked somewhat amused. She wanted to know about the strange, open roof. But no time for explanations.

        While I was waving, the younger passengers in my car helped by simultaneously yelling: “STOP! STOP! STOP!” Little girls have very loud shrill voices.
Surely my husband, glancing in the rear view mirror, would see my frantic waving arm and wonder why I was doing this and therefore stop.
        Not.
        I figured if he couldn’t hear the horn and couldn’t spot my waving arm from the roof of the car, then surely he would never see us.
         So he would not stop.
        Meanwhile, I had to turn around quickly, before we were too far away from the farm. No time to waste.
       I saw an approaching intersection. Desperately hoping he would glance in the rear view mirror, I signaled to turn right. Then did so.
        I watched as his car blithely continued on. He did not see us make our turn.
Picture
        I sighed. Now I must return to the farm to retrieve the black bag. At some point down the road he would glance in the rear view mirror and realize we weren’t behind him. Only then would he stop.
        But when was that? And where would I be? And how could we connect with no cell phone?
         I sighed again.
        As I was planning my return, I heard something in Korean behind me. The 11-year-old in the back seat said she asked her grandmother again about the black canvas bag.
        That’s when her grandmother, sitting beside me on the front seat, held up the black canvas bag! With the cell phone in it!
        “You had the bag beside you all the time!” I said in astonishment.
        The Korean grandmother smiled sweetly. She held up the black bag again for me to see. She nodded pleasantly. No idea of the havoc rattling inside my brain during the interval of the missing black bag.
        I sighed: long, relieved, and just a wee bit confused.
        So we continued on our way and it wasn’t long before I spied my husband’s lead car parked along the side waiting for us to catch up from wherever…
        …and he had no idea about this drama over a missing black bag.

2 Comments
Scott link
7/31/2019 07:40:30 am

RE: The Black Bag:

The ring...where's the ring...it must be in my pocket...Bilbo frantically searches his pockets, face contorting, frustration evident...Gandalf speaks, "Bilbo....the ring is in your pocket" Bilbo nervously reaches into his pocket and finds the ring....My Precious....I have found MY Precious...

The morale of the story, essentially cell phones have become so addictive they are often the most important item of all. Yes they keep you connected, but what one earth did humans do before they came along? Well humans did something that they still do, only less...they speak. Now they are tracked as if putting a chip in your arm because a cell phone is like a beacon. One that people freely give their thoughts to.

Perhaps going forward a couple of high powered Walkie Talkies that are only one two channels can be used and kept at all times in the cars. These usually have a range of about a mile or so, so one must be close, unless you have a HAM radio of course.

As this world exponentially spins out of control technologically, stay grounded. Make plans in car caravans to frequently spot check in the rear view mirror....or if all else fails, and you can safely pass the car, get their attention that way, and wave as you go by. If that doesn't catch his attention, try mooning him :)

Finally, there are many different languages worldwide, to complicate things further there are customs, religions and cultures that come into their dialect. I know I work with many different ones, and it takes time to understand their language when they convert it to English. Sometimes it's entertaining, other times it's not. I'm gathering when speeding down a highway it's even harder to communicate if one is not familiar with their dialect conversion.

Happily and sadly it's the world we live in today. There are pros and cons to everything. When in Rome, doesn't apply as much as it used to.....is it good or bad? It depends on the political motivation of course; therefore if deeds are done out of love, compassion and empathy, they are done for the right reasons; however if their is an agenda behind them (think politicians) then not so much.

Love and light.

Reply
Adolf
7/31/2019 12:52:21 pm

Technology...????...the answer is simple...only the shadow knows

Reply



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Photos used under Creative Commons from Bazar del Bizzarro, roland, Mike Kniec