little pockets

I made an interesting observation this morning while waiting for the elevator, an event which consumes more of my time than it should each week.

When I was a boy we lived in Louisville and Dad worked for the Veterans Administration. He wore a suit and tie to work every day. This was in 1950, give or take a year, and you can visualize the suit. At the end of the day, we developed this little ritual to celebrate "Daddy's home!" He would pick up a gumball on the way home and drop it into the little pocket inside the bigger pocket on the side of his jacket. When he got home, I'd run up and check the little pocket to see what he had for me. It was always a gumball and I was always happy. (I was easily entertained at that age.)

When my kids came along I didn't pass that ritual on to them. We didn't have a gumball machine where I worked, I didn't always wear a suit every day, and not all of them had those little pockets. The only "Daddy's home" surprise I gave them was on a day when we had a new swimming pool, it was hotter than blue blazes outside, and I was wearing a wash-and-wear Palm Beach suit. I came in the front door and heard everybody in the pool, so I took off my shoes, emptied my pockets, took off my tie, and jumped in with them.

Back to this morning. I discovered that my suit pocket has one of those little pockets. I seldom poke my fingers in one of those little pockets without thinking of Dad's gumballs but today I discovered that the little pocket is the perfect size for my cell phone, and a perfectly secure place to put it. I'm not sure my father ever saw a cell phone in his life but I'm sure he'd be amazed.