It wasn’t long ago that I bought a new camera. It wasn’t long after that when I lost it. It’s either nestled in the woods below the Malvern hills, or trousered in some scrote’s pocket up top.
Entirely in keeping the Law so well espoused by Sod, it was ejected on the only descent post which I failed to check for continuing velcro encasement.
Frustrating as the loss certainly is, a new phenomenon it certainly is not. For ever me and my stuff have suffered geographical separation at an escalating rate of “oh shit not again“. The current trade deficit must run to thousands, with only marriage and occasional outbreaks of common sense to keep it below eye wateringly tragic.
I cannot – and dare not – catalogue the Generation Game carousel of carelessly abandoned chattels, but let’s run a whistle stop tour of the highlights; five pairs of Oakleys’, three sets of expensive prescription glasses, a library of books abandoned in all corners of the world, a bridegroom in the UK, a good friend in France*, a car and then nearly my life at Universal studios, myself a hundred times in the woods, expensive watches, cheap watches, other people’s watches, two pairs of shoes in one week, money, credit cards and my wedding ring.
Twice. In one week. That week being our honeymoon. Not possible to do something more dumb that that you may think? Try offering “Yeah sorry, but it doesn’t mean anything” in mitigation.
On reaching a million, I stopped counting lost car keys and although there’s a rumour my random redistribution of possessions is somehow less chaotic than previous years, this is analogous to an arsonist only setting fire to one building at a time.
I may lose less, but it is worth more. And while there’s a part of me somehow proud of such ineptitude, the bit with the wallet in it craves a solution, a system, some kind of magnetic personality into which I can orbit cherished things.
God I’ve tried. Systems, post it notes, the three-pocket-pat “spectacles, testicles, wallet”, not leaving the house with anything valuable. None of it works, this year I’ve lost both the kids at some point, and once properly abandoned the dog in a Forestry car park.
And it shouldn’t be hard really. I’m not the sharpest tool in the box, but I have clothes with pockets and bags with zips. Coping strategies include the tool wall in my workshop which was designed not for proud display of an extensive hammer collection, but to provide a fighting chance of locating the backup mallet once the first one has disappeared.
I have a theory and that is that none of this is my fault. Surprised? No, me neither. But let me hypothesise a little more. Last week my security pass was on a desk in a small room. At no point was the door opened**, no obvious thievery was at play, false floors and hidden compartments entirely failed to materialise.
But the pass still de-materialised. Gone. Not on the desk, not in my bag, not sucked into an air conditioning vent, not reduced to atoms by a passing death ray. No, just gone, away with the fairies, flipped into a different dimension, very possibly pining for the fjords.
Not even a man skilled in the art of being entirely flipping useless could manage that. So I give you the only possible answer, what we’re talking about here is nothing short of “THE ALUDA TRIANGLE“. Exactly like the famed Bermuda Triangle only not quite as big, not in the same place and with less planes in it. Otherwise, a spitter.
I shall just pause for a moment to bathe in your open mouthed amazement. Slap-Headed you shall be – as was I – when struck by the simplicity of the solution.
Somewhere in this shadowy void swirls all that has been lost, forgotten, discarded and abandoned. I fully expect to be re-united sometime when I am appropriately worthy and/or dead.
If it is – and I am every hopeful – the former, make your way to my virtual doorstep for some previously enjoyed items. They’ll be nearly new, barely used and of no use to me at all.
As even someone with six bicycles and only a single pair of legs can see that nineteen pairs of sunglasses, fourteen watches, five hundred and eleven socks and a four foot cuddly model of “Roger the Rabbit” is far too heavy a personal inventory.
* For two days. He found me eventually which considering that a) there were no mobile phones back in those days and b) I was not only in the wrong train station but the WRONG COUNTRY was a bloody outstanding effort. For which I rewarded him with a small Yorkshire sized beer.
** Even tho it was a very small room, too full of people operating hot electronics in the pursuit of some boredom challenge. Anyone opening that door would have been crushed by a few of us making a run for it.
7 thoughts on “The Aluda Triangle”
Al, you have my utmost respect for admitting such a failing, and pity, for I’m bloody useless at keeping hold of things too or finding them again once they’ve disappeared.
And I’m in a search team.
I have a feeling that your post may be a call to arms of all those amongst us who couldn’t find our arses with both hands and a GPS.. or possibly the starting point for group therapy 😉
Is this another one for when you’re made ruler that all things will be magnetised + return to sender esque? Your first ruling can be to get the boffins onto it.
When I am World Dictator, I shall not be allowed to lose things. There shall be a post for a “head minion” to keep at least three of everything and reward my stupidity by providing a new item, before I even notice I’ve lost it.
I can see a large volume of applications for that role 😉 It could work especially well with beer “hmm I seem to have lost the liquid in this glass, sort it out man before I become vexed”
Ian – after your glove incident, I have you down as a fellow sufferer.
I take it by that extensive report that you™ve never lost your wallet. Start on a positive, eh? (or tempt the gods; pick one). Do you ride in contacts at all (cheaper to lose). A Panny FT2s pretty good if you want to renew the camera anytime soon. Comes in bright YELLOW or ORANGE and has a LANYARD included and should survive wherever you drop it. Next you™ll be losing your mind 😉
I replaced the camera after much angst and fading hope that my fellow man might hand it into a police station. It’ll only be taking pics of inside our house as I dare not take it outside!
We don’t talk about lost wallets. It does bad things to house harmony 😉
Contacts for 20 years. Glasses lost in house/Aluda triangle. There’s definitely a pattern emerging.
Mind? Long gone.
First picture on memory card in camera is of mobile phone number, so (small chance, but a chance all the same) if the finder is honest/honourable they can call and arrange to get the camera back to you.
It worked for me when I left the camera my wife had loaned me at the top of the Soveriegn trail system outside Moab.
that first pic idea is actually not bad.. will have to remember that one.