When Laura and I were on our honeymoon in 1978, we did something that a lot of folks did back then as they prepared to check out of their hotel… we stashed an ashtray from the room into our luggage… claiming our right to it by way of international law established by the “Droit sacré à un souvenir” act of 1793 in France (i.e., the sacred right to a memento… although the mementos being collected in France in 1793 were quite different).
I will avoid discussing the definition of petty theft while intentionally mentioning the statute of limitations. This technique, often honed, polished, and perfected by politicians to expert skill levels, is referred to as dodging & deflecting. I’m not very good at it, though (ask Laura)… so I’ll simply mention the statute of limitations again.
Enough said… back to the ashtray. Several years later, our memento met a terrible demise.
You see, the ashtray, with the hotel’s name beautifully embossed upon it, was made of glass, and the tile floor, with concrete beneath, was (shall we say) somewhat unyielding. And when gravity, being what it is (the universal force of attraction acting between all matter), decided that the two should meet… well… you get the picture.
Then, many years later, Laura was browsing in an antique shop, and there it was. The same ashtray… in perfect condition. Of course, Laura purchased it.
When she brought it home and showed it to me, I was surprised… and quite happy. Yet I was also a bit sad… because that was when I realized everyday items from our earliest days as husband and wife were now trinkets sold in antique shops.
Which brings us to Thanksgiving. I am thankful for so much these days… but I must say I am most thankful for time. For sure, we are getting old. For sure, our lives are changing. But we are still here when so many are not.
The late Joe Diffie once sang, “…and as he ordered one last round, he said, I guess we can't complain; God made life a gamble, and we're still in the game.”
I wrote the following on Facebook in 2018 after Laura lost a sister… it seems a fitting day to repeat it…
“When afforded a proper perspective, one quickly realizes that most of what we refer to as misfortunes are, in fact, trivial matters. We may think our jobs are difficult. We may think life has dealt us a poor hand. Alas, we forget to be grateful. We forget that there will be other jobs and other hands dealt. We forget to be grateful for time itself.”
The ashtray now sits on the bar in our den… next to the jellybean machine (a gumball machine for jellybeans) and other assorted bar stuff. I think of our honeymoon every time I see it. Yes, an ashtray makes me smile. No one smokes, so I sometimes put small candies in it… but it serves its mementoistic purpose.
I know… you don’t have to say it. Mementoistic is not a word.
Well, the “Droit sacré à un souvenir” act of 1793 isn’t real either… so there.
Happy Thanksgiving, one and all… enjoy!
