Keynotes
©2003 Suzy Wurtz
My
daughter studied nearby as I worked at our computer in the master bedroom. My
husband bounded up the stairs with plastic shopping bags crinkling. He walked
in the room and announced with a twinkle in his eye, “I bought you some
performance enhancing products!”
I looked at my daughter, then back at
him. Since he didn’t ask her to leave the room and since his parcels were not
in plain brown paper, we both waited for the surprise.
“More memory” he said beaming and
holding out a small package, “for your computer.”
I needed more memory for sure, but
not for the computer. I’d spent a full 25 minutes that day searching for my car
keys. I’d uttered a few choice words earlier about needing more memory. And it
had nothing to do with a computer.
Misplacing keys is not a function of
my age. I’ve been misplacing keys since I was a child. Personally, I blame the
keys. Left alone, keys at our house multiply like fruit flies. As they grow,
they like to play hide and seek games, particularly if they are assigned to my
car.
Another problem I have with keys is
identification. There are 3 key rings in my purse. The first has the keys to
my car. The second has a spare set of keys to my car. The third, my “heavy” key
ring, has ten keys on it. I only know what 8 of them open, but I keep them
because someday when I least expect it, I’ll encounter a lock and exclaim, “Of
course! THAT’S what this key is for!”
I considered labeling each one. My
husband cautioned me
about the security danger. If someone found labeled keys,
he warned, he or she could easily break into our house and car. Well, duh, I
wasn’t going to mark them with my house address and license plate number! No, I
suggested an ingenious secret code like “frntdr,” “bckdr,” “offc,” “olds,” “chvy.”
He talked me out of the i.d. project.
However, I did convince him to identify the
spare keys that multiply in secret spots throughout the house. Out of curiosity,
I gathered up the entire collection and dumped them on the kitchen counter for
an embarrassing inventory of over 50 keys. My husband had indeed labeled them
plainly, or at least as clearly as he could. There were house keys of people
who live far away from us, keys from cars and equipment we no longer own, and a
good selection of anonymous ones.
These unidentified keys were the ones
that intrigued me. There were four orphaned keys on a red promotional chain
from an auto shop. They looked like house keys and I’ll bet they’re from
someplace that one of us lived in the 70’s or 80’s. But we can’t throw them
away just in case we might need them. My expedition uncovered an interesting
linguistic distinction in our marriage, too. My husband’s name was on an
unidentified group marked “Paul’s Unknown Keys.” However, the similar cluster
with my name said “Suzy’s Mystery Keys.” I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered
by the different description or irritated.
A recent study in Chicago disputed
the notion that menopause makes women forgetful. Darn. I was hoping to use that
as an excuse for those two keys in my purse that have no home. Though I now
have more memory for my computer, it won’t help me identify the Mystery Keys.
And more computer memory isn’t going
to help find my car keys when they disappear. Two things are true about
misplaced keys: 1) They are always in the last place you look and 2) they are
usually right where you left them.
For right now, though, I’m going to
borrow the magnet from my parents’ refrigerator that proclaims, “If I could
remember your name, I’d ask you where I put my keys.”
I’m sure I’m not alone. By the way,
do you know where YOUR car keys are right now?
| Previous column | |Next
Column |
Back to Top
