Sack

Oh, yeah, baby. That's it.

This morning as I turned the corner from my apartment, I realized the comforting element of my backpack. It’s like I’m getting hugged from behind by a furless sloth who ate a few books and a laptop and is making a getaway on my back. I wear it pretty high. I don’t know if this makes me a nerd or not, but I read a while back that low-slung backpacks work your back in terrible ways. I didn’t pay much heed to that little bit of advice until I was in high school.

When I was a kid, it was commonly accepted that those who wore low-hanging backpacks were total badasses. They were mavericks. They took the straps to limits. They braved the prospect of a catastrophic tear that would leave their belongings strewn across the hallway floor. I was one of those kids. Intrepid. Fearless. My Jansport was always hangin’ low, bruv.

As I accepted my nerdiness later on in high school, my backpack rose. By junior year of college, I was consumed by the messenger bag. I still own a few and use them from time to time, but I’ve recently made the change back to backpacks. They carry more. They’re more practical. Honestly, messenger bags are more of a fashion accessory to me than practical bag. I have a ton of stuff to carry around for school. I don’t want all of that dangling off one strap wrapped across my chest.

The fact that I was thinking about backpacks for a solid ten minutes scared me. The idea that I was discussing the utilitarian superiority of a backpack compared to a messenger bag pretty much told me everything I needed to know about myself. I’m old. As I grew older, the manner I carried my belongings mattered more to me. I grew more practical, more concerned about my back. Now, I’ve methodically decided that backpacks are more practical, and thusly, put one foot in the grave.

In a sense, ‘backwear’ could be used to measure one’s evolutionary point in regards to full adulthood. Maybe. Just a stupid thought.

I’m a huge fan of briefcases. I looooove the idea of putting my things inside of animal skin wrapped around a wooden frame. I’m going to see if I can’t get leather from the Blue Bell Cow for my first briefcase. There’s nothing more Texan that than.

Also, I refuse to get one of those rolling suitcases or crates full of files and folders that professors drag around. If you see me with one of those, just end it. End me. I’ve given up.

Anyway, this is just a random question, but what do you prefer to carry around? I feel backpacks are kinda geeky but practical. I guess there are a lot of “cool” backpacks out there, but really, why all the hassle? Gimme a sack and a couple of straps and let’s ride.

Don’t read too much into that last line.

-dago

Advertisements

One thought on “Sack”

  1. I never used a backpack. Or a messenger bag, or a briefcase, or a rolling suitcase, or a stroller, or a bandana tied to a stick. The closest thing I used to Bagular Transport in college was a secret Ziploc I kept hidden in my pocket – for sweaty days when deodorant and face-wash made the trip with me.

    Instead I perfected the one-arm tuck. Only the relevant course-materials stuffed securely beneath the nook in my shoulder. I liked what it said about me.

    Look at this guy, here. This guy knows exactly what he needs and he takes it with him. This guy’s all about efficiency. Factory-Caliber Optimization.

    But I know it’s bullshit.

    I never wore a bag because it hindered my stride. One of my favorite parts about college was swagging around anonymously, shoulders back, chest out to meet the sun, a swinging gait that I thought might make me stand out. I’m not a very confident guy but walking I can do.

    But now I’m stuck thinking about the type of walks I find attractive. I picture a young lady in the same sun, hunched over from the weight of her Janny, little thumbs tucked under the straps against her chest, full lean and cruising downhill without a care. That’s what I would notice. I might marry a walk like that.

    My own walk? I’d probably meet it with jeers and a derisive spit at the ground.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s