Saturday, August 13, 2016

40-Year Old Matches

My dad carried these matches in the glove box of his truck. He died in 1978 and I've toted them around the world, ever since. The top of the pill bottle was white at one time. It's a nice shade of yellow from age now. We spent a bunch of time in very remote places in the days before cell phones, when southwestern Colorado and the Four Corners weren't nearly as populated or visited as today, and cars and trucks weren't as reliable. You never knew when a campfire or signal fire might be necessary. I have no clue why they are sentimental, but they are... or how I've managed to hang onto them, given how many times I've moved.

These are "strike anywhere" matches, by the way. I don't think you can't buy them anymore. I don't see them at the grocers story, anyway. All you needed to light these was a good rock or, if you really wanted to flash your bad ass wild west colors, you could light them with a fast swipe on the backside of the leg on your Levi's. You can't do that anymore.

Life is fascinating.


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