What’s He Got In His Pocketses?

September 19, 2009

G.K. Chesterton ( a particularly favorite author of mine) once wrote an essay entitled, “What I Found in My Pocket.”

He started it off with a witty anecdote about a man who supposedly told him,  “A man can’t get on nowadays by hanging about with his hands in his pockets.”  To which G.K. flippantly replied that perhaps a man got on by having his hands in other people’s pockets.

Anyway, the gist of the essay is about all the strange and wonderful things that fall into the “abyss” of his pockets.

I do not happen to be wearing anything with pockets today, but I started musing on this essay when I unpacked my gymbag this evening. To start with, the gymbag itself is pretty special. My work on this green bag made me an expert in using a seam-ripper back in eighth grade, and it has served me well for six or seven years since then.

Inside I found:

A pretty bluejay feather, which reminded me of the kingfisher feathers I used to pick up back home.

A 1996 penny

2 water bottles, one from my first backpacking trip to West Virginia, and the other from this summer’s trip

A melted chocolate granola bar

A rugby magazine

A pocket-sized $1 bottle of sunscreen mailed in a package from a California friend

My insurance card (just in case)

A pair of kangaroo leather cleats

A black scrum cap with green stitching

Red, knee-high socks

A bright orange mouth guard

Perhaps not as exciting as G.K.’s scraps of paper, pocket-knife, and chalk, but certainly worthy of a posting!

P.S. -G.K.’s essay can be found at this site: http://www.readbookonline.net/readOnLine/20721/

Advertisements

Just in Case

September 19, 2009

Tomorrow we have a rugby game against Wright State. This is our first league game, and one of our club officers sent out the following email:

Everyone,
Bring your insurance cards to the game tomorrow. Not that anyone is going to get
hurt…but just in case…BRING IT.
Thanks!
D

Good thing my new scrum cap arrived in the mail today, eh?


Accident Report

September 17, 2009

Today I was stacking books  in the library when suddenly everything went into slow motion and the shelf I was working on tilted ever so slowly towards me, fell to the floor with a crash, and deposited a pile of books on my big toe.

My supervisor came rushing back to make sure everything was okay and then immediately went into her office, retrieving an an accident report form to be completed in triplicate.

This form asked for everything! My date of birth, my Social Security Number, the time of the incident, a description of the incident, my supervisor’s signature,  and even the library director’s signature.

Meanwhile, another supervisor got out bandaids, antiseptic wipes, ointment, and ibuprofen, and insisted that I wash my toe and take care of it. It was a teeny tiny cut that was bleeding slightly, and I was trying not to laugh over how absurd it all seemed.

For the rest of my shift, I was excused from doing any “hard” work and basically sat at the desk and read. I cannot believe the lengths we went to over that toe. The library director even asked if I needed to go to the Health Centre, and then stories were swapped over other work-related “injuries.”

The most ironic part, of course, is that two hours later I’m headed for the rugby pitch to be voluntarily pummelled.


Mr. Marx

September 16, 2009

Certain classes I have taken at Denison have given me the opportunity to spend a lot of time with great thinkers. Mr. James Madison in particular comes to mind. I spent hours reading Notes on the Constitutional Convention and his contributions to The Federalist. This semester it seems I will be spending time with a very different thinker by the name of Karl Marx.

Now, not everyone has time to read such world-altering works. In fact, come to think of it, I don’t usually have the time for them. But, in case you’re interested in learning in 30 seconds what the Communist Manifesto says, here’s a summary I wrote for a friend:

“Workers, blah blah, proletariat, blah, bourgeoisie, blah blah blah, capitalism is evil… opium… lose your chains… class struggle… blah blah, WORKERS UNITE!”

Oh yes, I think I’m gonna love my Soc./Anth. minor.