Nook and Fanny

I was stumbling home in the dark Tuesday night when six words streaked through my brain.

“I’ve got to make this right!”

It had been one hell of an evening. This particular scream-fest began when I decided to do my workout in nearby Bliss Park rather than at my local gym.

The temperature was pushing 70 degrees that day, pretty much unheard of in New York in November, so I thought I’d take advantage of the nice weather while we still have it.

I loaded up my fanny pack—-God, I hate that term—-with my wallet, phone, and house keys. There’s a nice little courtyard in the park where I like to do a shadow boxing workout from my I-phone.

Several families were in the park and my first reaction was to get all grumpy about these people hanging around while I’m doing my thing.

But this time I told myself to cease and desist this foolish and unhealthy attitude. These people have as much right to be here as you do, I thought.

I’m convinced that by cutting down on the cranky, I was able to have a nice chat with this lovely family who were walking by while I was wrapping up.

There was a little boy who got so excited watching me shadow box that he started hopping around like a loon. It was a very pleasant experience and it only happened because I took the chip off my brain.

I packed up gear, bid them a good night, and walked down the grassy hill leading to the exit. And halfway down this very hill I made a shocking discovery.

My phone was gone.

I checked my fanny pack—I still hate that term—and my gym bag, but there was no sign of it.

I immediately put my caboose in reverse, and ran back to the courtyard where I found my phone sitting on a park bench.

“I forgot my phone,” I said, stating the obvious to the family, who were still there.

Back down the hill I went, putting my phone in the fanny-pack and thanking God for my good fortune.

I was approaching my front door when I looked down at that thing on my hip and saw it was wide open. And then I made another shocking discovery.

My wallet was gone.

Yes, exactly: I lost my phone and my wallet inside of 10 minutes.

I began to panic. In addition to cash, I’ve got my driver’s license, credit cards, and metro card in my wallet.

Since I didn’t hear anything, I reckoned I had dropped my wallet in the park so I ran back to the courtyard and retraced my steps with my nose to the ground.

Where You At?

The hill in Bliss Park is just a lovely spot that overlooks the Narrows. Normally it’s a very peaceful location, but now, with the sun going down and my wallet still missing, it looked like a horror movie set.

I started walking back and forth like a duck in a shooting gallery, dragging my foot and poking at the grass with a stick in hopes of finding my wallet.

To make matters worse, there was a young couple sitting in the grass enjoying the evening, and I felt badly for intruding on their romantic moment.

There’s nothing like a wheezing old geezer on the verge of tears to really kill the mood.

I tried to see by the glow of my phone, cursing myself for not figuring out how to use the damn flashlight that comes with the thing. (I have since corrected this.)

And then the phone rang.

I’ve been getting a ton of robocalls lately and I was tempted to hang up, but I answered and it turned out to be my landlady.

“Are you looking for my wallet?” she asked.

“Yes!”

She told me that two men had found my wallet, brought it over to the house, and gave it to my landlady. I could not believe my luck—twice in the same day yet.

I was halfway home when I realized I was still carrying the stick. Tossing it aside, I made my promise to pay this ridiculously good fortune forward.

When I got home I went upstairs and quite literally fell to my knees to give thanks.

Then I went on YouTube, and clicked on the Late Show channel.

Every night I listen to Seth Meyers encouraging support for the charity God’s Love We Deliver, which delivers meals to people in need.

God sure delivered some love for me on this day so I quickly hit the donate button.

I felt relieved, obviously, but also quite disturbed. I don’t know where my mind was during this madness, but clearly it was nowhere near reality.

Okay, there are a few lessons I can get out of this fiasco.

First of all: Pay attention! There's just no excuse for being so scatterbrained.

Second, don’t overstuff the fanny pack. In the past I only kept my glasses and phone charger and I’m going back to that policy.

It’s not a steamer trunk for Christ’s sake.

Third, from now on, whenever I go out, I’m going to do an inventory of all the stuff I carry: wallet, phone, glasses, keys, etc. And then check for them along the way.

I don’t need another kick in the fanny pack.