This is a video from my YouTube channel, Jack’s World.
This video is a special Mother’s Day tribute to my wonderful mother. I’ve said before that I am very fortunate to have such wonderful parents. And I’ll go out of my way to celebrate and cherish them with every chance I get.
So in that spirit, I’m using this video to share a personal story about my wonderful mother. It just so happens to involve roller coasters. Enjoy!
Filed under Jack Fisher's Insights, Jack's World, YouTube
Today is Father’s Day.
And when you’re lucky enough to have an awesome dad like mine, it’s definitely worth celebrating.
Now, I know I’ve gone out of my way to brag about how awesome my dad in the past. And I’ve no intention to stop bragging. Why should I? My dad is just that great. And I will never hesitate to celebrate, honor, and thank him for being the best dad a guy like me could ask for. So many of my best traits come directly from my dad and how he raised me.
Today, I just happen to have a better excuse than usual to celebrate how great he is. And I’m happy to take advantage of it.
I know he occasionally reads this site. So, I like to make sure I properly articulate how much I love him and how grateful I am for all that he’s done for me. There’s so much I could talk about for my dad. There are the times he helped me while I was struggling in school, when I was a moody teenager, and when I had a bad attitude problem during my less-than-successful little league baseball career.
I could probably write entire books on certain phases of my life and how my dad was so instrumental. But in the interest of keeping this from running too long, I’ll highlight just one that I still remember fondly to this day. I’m not sure if he remembers this. But if he does, I hope it brings him the same joy it still brings me.
This particular incident happened when I was around four years old. My dad was working a construction job at the time. And my mother happened to have the day off. So, she took me to McDonald’s, which was always a treat for me. I remember getting a happy meal and a toy, which was enough to make any kid’s day back then. However, the toy wasn’t what stands out the most.
What made that trip to McDonald’s so memorable was that the burger had a pickle in it. My parents know I hate pickles and I always ask that they be removed from my burger. This time, they forgot. But I didn’t realize that until my mother drove by the construction site my dad was working at to say hi. This was not unusual. And he often dropped by to greet us and take a break.
But this time, when we drove by, I started crying because I found a pickle in my burger. Now, this is one of those moments that could either ruin a day or make it great. My parents, being the awesome people they are, found a way to make it great for all the right reasons.
Just as we drove up and started chatting, my dad saw the pickle in the burger. He saw me crying and complaining, as most four-year-olds do over minor things. So, without missing a beat, he just took the burger, took out the pickle, and threw the pickle across the construction site as hard as he could. He then turned back to me, smiled, and gave me back the burger.
To this day, I still remember how much I laughed and smiled at that. My mom started laughing too. It was simple, playful gesture from a man who was working an arduous job. But he still had the energy and the heart to make me smile.
As a result, that particular McDonald’s burger was extra tasty. And I have my dad to thank for that.
In the years that followed, we drove by that site frequently. It ultimately became a shopping center that still stands to this day. And whenever we passed by, my mom and I would point out the exact spot where my dad threw the pickle. And I would always smile at that memory.
That’s just one of many memories of my dad that I cherish. Today, I hope others can recount and celebrate similar memories. I know not everyone is lucky enough to have an awesome dad like mine. But that just makes me appreciate him even more.
So, to my wonderful father and all the other amazing father’s out there, I wish you a very Happy Father’s Day!
Filed under Jack Fisher's Insights, real stories
Summer is here!
If you’re a kid who has endured the past eight months of school or an adult who hates dressing in layers just to get the mail, it’s a wonderful time of year. I always looked forward to it as a kid, largely because I was so miserable at school. But even after I started working, I still looked forward to summer. No matter what job I had, it just felt less strenuous with the knowledge that pools were open and beach vacations were possible.
Since the COVID-19 pandemic, I’ve only come to appreciate summer even more. I wasn’t able to do much traveling for a couple years. Now, my summer travel plans are largely back to normal. That usually means I’ll be taking multiple trips to the beach and I’ll be spending a good chunk of that time lounging about, reading comics under the sun, and hanging out with friends and family. Just thinking about it makes me feel more relaxed.
And I encourage everyone to take time this summer to enjoy themselves. It doesn’t matter if that involves a trip to the beach, a walk in the park, or eating ice cream on a hot day. We all should get out and enjoy this time of year. It’s good for us on so many levels.
But, like with any activity, seasonal or otherwise, there are risks and precautions. Most are minor. If you have a lick of common sense, you already know what to do and you’ll be fine. But in the spirit of celebrating this time of year, I’d like to share a personal story that I hope reminds everyone why these precautions are worth taking. And it involves sunburns and sunscreen.
I know it’s a common concern. Go to any beach, pool, or summer hot spot and chances are someone will urge you to put on sunscreen. For some, it’s more important than others. And that definitely applies to me.
Since I was a kid, I’ve always burned easily. Whereas my sisters always seem to get a nice tan by spending time in the sun, my brother and I always burn and burn badly. Even when we use sunscreen, we can get burned. Granted, that’s often a result of us not applying enough of it. But that doesn’t make the burn hurt any less. I could recount plenty of stories about times when I got nasty sunburns that took weeks to heal.
But one story in particular will always stand out and I hope that by sharing it, others will take applying sunscreen more seriously.
This is a pretty recent story as well, taking place only about six years ago. That’s important because it happened while I was a capable, functioning adult. It’s one thing for kids to get sunburned. They’re stubborn and short-sighted. I know I certainly was and I ended up with plenty of burns that left lasting impressions. So, by this point in my life, I had no excuses.
It happened during a memorable 4th of July trip to the beach. I took an extended vacation so that I could travel to the beach to meet up with some friends and family. We were going to spend some time at the shore, enjoy some fireworks, and have a cookout. It was a perfect setup for the 4th of July holiday and I was so ready to enjoy it.
On the first day I was there, I met up with my dad and we spent almost the entire day lounging at the beach. It was a perfect summer day. It was hot, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. You really couldn’t have asked for better weather for a holiday weekend.
Knowing this, I did make it a point to apply plenty of sunscreen. I tried to cover every part of my body that usually burned quickly. I promised myself that this trip wasn’t going to result in some painful burn that would obscure an otherwise perfect summer trip. Sadly, I couldn’t keep that promise.
While I did use over half a bottle of sunscreen to smother most of my body, there was one particular part I missed. It was a small patch just around the tops of my feet. That’s not normally a part of my body on which I apply sunscreen, mostly because I wear sneakers all the time, even in hot weather. So, in my rush to get down to the beach, I missed that part. And the summer sun punished me for it.
The day at the beach was still great. It was the first time in weeks that I could just sit down, relax, and not worry about all the other stuff that was going on my life. It also gave me some quality time with my dad, which I always enjoy. That was all great and totally worth it. But it wasn’t until later that evening I realized something.
The tops of my feet hurt like hell.
When I tried putting my shoes on to go out for dinner, the pain was really bad. And that’s when I found out what had happened. The tops of my feet were badly sunburned. The rest of my body was fine. The parts that usually got burned easily were unaffected. I even had a slight tan in some areas. But the patch of burns on my feet were bright red with burns.
I know it’s not fun to have any part of your body sunburned. But trust me, burning the tops of your feet is especially painful. It’s not just that it makes wearing shoes and socks a test in pain tolerance. The mere act of taking a shower becomes difficult. I found that out the hard way the next morning. For the rest of the trip, I had to be careful with what I wore on my feet and what I did. The burns were just that bad.
As painful as it was, I still had fun during that trip. It didn’t keep me from enjoying my time at the beach or the various 4th of July festivities that came with it. But it did help reinforce the importance of sunscreen for me. Since then, I’ve become much more thorough when it comes to applying it for a trip to the beach or pool. And you can rightly assume that I’ll always put a little extra on my feet.
Again, I encourage everyone to get out there and enjoy this summer. Go to the beach. Go to the pool. Go to a cookout with friends and family. Enjoy the sun and the warmth. Just be safe and responsible. You don’t want to deal with sunburns more than you have to. And you especially don’t want to deal with burns on your feet.
Filed under Current Events, Jack Fisher's Insights, real stories
As I’m writing this, a great many school-age kids in middle school and high school are anxious for summer to begin. For many school districts in the United State, the end of the school year is in sight. It no longer seems so far away and so out of reach. I imagine many are already counting down the days until that magical moment when the final bell rings and school is out for the summer.
I know that wait can be agonizing, at times.
I have not forgotten the elation I often felt on the last day of school
But before any students get to that wondrous moment, they have one last obstacle to face. It involves the last round of standardized tests and exam. It may vary from district to district, but this is usually the time of year when most students take the SATs, AP and IP exams, or a general final exam for each class. They are often among the most difficult and stressful tests of the entire year. I haven’t forgotten how hard they were, either. And while I’ve already made my opinions on standardized testing clear, I’d like to use this moment to share another insight.
Back in high school, I took a number of AP exams during this time of year. And towards my junior and senior year, I also took final exams that often required much more studying than your standard quiz. I took many similar exams in college, but most of those varied in that they didn’t rely entirely on scantron sheets and multiple-choice tests. To date, it was those major exams towards the end of high school that ended up being the hardest test I ever took.
I vividly remember staying up late at night during the days leading up to the test, often going over page after page of notes that weren’t always well-organized. I also remember reading over textbooks again and again, but still struggling to remember key points. It resulted in many restless nights. On the nights before tests, I often laid awake in my bed, going over notes and concepts that I knew I had to remember for the exam the next day.
It was not healthy. I can’t overstate how stressful this was for me.
Even though I ended up passing and even acing some of these exams, the work I had to put in just didn’t feel worth it. And in the grand scheme of things, I don’t feel like all that studying helped me actually learn the concept. Even if I passed or aced the exam, I genuinely can’t remember any helpful knowledge coming from it.
However, this harrowing experience did have one important impact. But I wouldn’t feel it until I graduated college and started working in the real world.
Looking back on all the jobs I’ve had since college, including the ones I found really terrible, I don’t think I’ve ever been as stressed or as anxious as I was when studying or taking those tests. That’s not to say all the jobs I’ve had were easy, by comparison. They certainly weren’t. I’ve had a number of jobs over the years in which I’ve come home feeling sore, drained, and miserable. But even on my busiest days at those jobs, I still didn’t feel nearly as stressed.
And I think that’s an important perspective to share because I imagine there are a lot of young people right now worrying about what the adult world has in store for them. Their only real experience with hard work and stress comes from school. They’re constantly told by teachers, counselors, and administrators that the work their doing now is critical. And it’s meant to prepare them for the much harder work they’ll face in college or the adult world.
If someone out there has been telling you that, I’ve got an important message for you.
Unless you plan on being a doctor or lawyer or a sweatshop laborer, that’s not accurate. That’s just administrators trying to get you to work harder so that you’ll get better grades, which consequently makes them look better. The truth is never that simplistic. And you often don’t find that out until much later in life and after some significant life experience.
But even if you don’t have that experience, you can still maintain a better perspective than I ever did when I was young. I made the mistake of treating every major exam like a defining moment in my life. I genuinely believed that if I didn’t ace every test, my life would fall apart and I would fail at everything moving forward. I also believed that each passing year would get harder and harder. Eventually, I’d have to spend every waking hour studying or working, never having time to enjoy my life. Again, it was not healthy. I did real harm to my mental health by thinking that.
I eventually had to learn that both college and the adult world don’t have to be this never-ending toil of joyless rigor. Once you have some agency and guidance, you can chart your own path. Yes, you’ll still have to work. And yes, you’ll still have to struggle at times. But it’s not nearly as arduous as these exams and the teachers who give them make them out to be. In time, they will be a small sliver of a much richer life.
To date, I don’t think I’ve ever worked as hard or been as stressed out as I was when taking my high school exams from this time of year. Every job I’ve had came with challenges. But rising to those challenges never felt so tedious and arduous. On top of that, I actually got paid for that effort. That definitely took some of the stress out of it. And even in the worst jobs I’ve had, there was a general structure and logic to it all. I knew what I had to do and why. Whereas with school, it was just a matter of doing what the teachers said and getting the grades they said you needed to get.
Time, life experiences, and the benefit of hindsight has helped me see those exams for what they were. As agonizing as they were, a part of me is grateful that they hardened me to the rigors of hard work and stressful nights. Compared to my last few years of high school, every job I’ve had has been less stressful and more manageable. That helped make navigating the adult world easier in the long run.
Even so, I wouldn’t wish that kind of stress on anyone. And I sincerely hope anyone reading this who’s still in school can gain some insight from what I’ve shared.
I know it’s still so overwhelming, having the end of the school year be so close, yet having to navigate final exams.
I know it seems like your entire life revolves around school and these tests, at the moment.
I only ask that you take a step back and appreciate that these challenges will help make you stronger in the long run. You need not fear what comes next. Because if you can survive high school even slightly better than I did, then I promise you’re already strong enough to build a brighter future for yourself in the years to come.
Filed under Current Events, Jack Fisher's Insights, philosophy, rants, real stories
Every now and then, we have one of those weeks that really tests us. Whether you’re in high school or a working adult, you just find yourself navigating each day like it’s a marathon after another marathon. It’s exhausting, draining, stressful, and even frustrating most of the time.
Then, you make it to the end of the week and it feels so good.
That’s basically the week I just had. I feel like this past week has been one of the hardest of my adult life. I won’t get into all the details why, mostly because it would require a book’s worth of backstory, context, and plot. I’ll just say that I found myself juggling way more challenges than most over the span of just a few days. On more than one occasion, I honestly didn’t know if I would be able to manage it all.
But in the end, I did.
I didn’t just make it to the end of the week. I actually finished everything I wanted to finish and did it with a sense of pride, accomplishment, and confidence. That just made it all the more rewarding.
I’ve had long, arduous weeks before. Sometimes, I’ve had several in a row, but this week was different. It felt like a perfect storm of issues and challenges. All sorts of factors, none of which I could control, seemed to converge on just a handful of days. That doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s usually very stressful.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to manage that stress. I like to think I’m better at it now than I was when I was a younger. That still didn’t make it any less draining. When I got home yesterday, I basically fell onto my bed and just laid there for a while. I also enjoyed an extra glass of whiskey, which is typically my preferred method of unwinding on Friday nights. And I can confirm it tasted that much sweeter.
I know it’s a bit cliché to say that hard work can be very rewarding, especially for those doing jobs they hate or dealing with issues that frustrate them. However, there is something to be said about making it through a difficult week and succeeding in everything you set out to do. It really is uniquely satisfying. It shows just how strong you are and how far you’ve come.
I’ll likely face other weeks like that in the future. Everyone reading this now will probably face the same. Take heed from this message.
You will make it through.
You will overcome.
You will be stronger because of it.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s another glass of whiskey waiting for me.
Filed under Jack Fisher's Insights, real stories
For the past year, I’ve gone out of my way to urge people to get vaccinated against COVID-19 while also pointing out why anti-vaxx arguments are ridiculously stupid. Honestly, I’m sick of doing that and I’m sick of talking about this. I wish getting a vaccine didn’t have to be a point of contention, but that’s just the state of the world we live in.
Again, get vaccinated people. You’ll end this pandemic and save lives in the process.
That being said, I’d like to add another layer to this effort. It’s not quite as dire as the current situation with COVID-19, but it’s still relevant, given that it involves our health and ways we can improve it. It has to do flu shots.
Now, let me start by making clear that the flu is not as serious as COVID-19. Despite the claims of certain misinformed pundits, the typical flu is less likely to kill you than COVID-19. You still don’t want to get either because even if it doesn’t kill you, having the flu is an awful experience.
You feel like crap for almost an entire week.
You can barely eat anything and even when you do, it’s hard to keep down.
Your face is flushed all the time, your nose is stuffy, your throat is sore, and your head won’t stop pounding from the inside.
It’s just an all-around bad time for you and your body. If you’re older or happen to be in poor health, it can be even more serious. People do die because of the flu and it’s not a trivial figure, either.
That’s why I encourage everyone to get a yearly flu shot, especially this year. Last year was bad enough, but this year is even more critical. Now that lockdowns are over and people are trying to live life as it was before the COVID-19 pandemic, the flu is likely to make a comeback.
As such, if you can get a flu shot, do what you have to do in order to get it. Do it for yourself and your family. I certainly plan on doing so. If you need information on doing so, the CDC has an entire section of their website dedicated to it.
It’s not a conspiracy.
It’s not an agenda.
It’s just a shot that’ll protect you from another disease you don’t want to get.
To further reinforce that point, I’d like to share a quick story about the worst flu I ever got and how it affected my attitudes towards flu shots. It’s not a very pleasant story, but I hope it gets the point across as to why flu shots are critical.
To set the stage and context, this occurred back when I was in the seventh grade. At this point in my life, I wasn’t in great shape overall. However, aside from bad allergies and acne, I was in generally good health. I hadn’t been seriously sick beyond a common cold in years. As a result, I saw little need for flu shots.
Then, one evening, I started feeling a little ill. I can remember exactly when it happened. It was around 7:00 p.m. one evening. I’d finished dinner and my folks were watching TV. It started with a sore throat and a cough, but it was nothing I hadn’t dealt with before. I thought I’d feel fine after I slept it off.
I was very wrong.
When I woke up the next morning, I felt terrible. My joints hurt, my head hurt, my sinuses were stuffed up, and I was so weak you could knock me over with a feather. I don’t remember looking in the mirror that morning, but I’m pretty sure I looked like hell.
Despite all that, I still thought I could make it to school that day. I thought it was just something that would wear off after I got going. I made an effort to get dressed, get some breakfast, and walk to school. My mother kept encouraging me not to, but I didn’t listen.
In hindsight, this was a terrible decision.
I managed to make it to school. But just as my first class began, my body just gave out. I couldn’t keep my head up and I couldn’t focus. My teacher naturally sent me to the school clinic. Once there, the nurse said I had a 101-degree fever. That’s pretty bad, even for a seventh grader.
My mom had to come and pick me up. To her credit, she didn’t say, “I told you so.” She just took me home, laid me down on the couch, gave me some medicine, and let me sleep.
The next few days sucked, but they weren’t nearly s bad as the first. I was so weak, tired, and sickly that I couldn’t do much aside from watch TV. At one point, I ran out of favorite movies to watch. I tried playing video games, but my head was in such a fog that I didn’t have much fun.
It was just such a terrible experience overall. Even after I got better, I made it a point to take the flu serious from that day forward. I always got a flu shot when it was available. I also took my health a bit more seriously, even though I wouldn’t get in shape until years later. I think that experience helped inform future health habits that have stuck with me to this day.
I still wish I didn’t have to go through that to learn the value of good health and flu shots. I certainly don’t want anyone to have to learn those hard lessons like I did. Even if the flu is not life-threatening, it’s just not an experience you want to have.
So please, if you can, get a flu shot this year.
Get one every year if you can. Take it from someone who learned the hard way. Having the flu sucks. A vaccine can help protect you from it and after living through a pandemic, we should all make the effort.
Filed under health, real stories
Bullies suck. I think most of us can agree on that. Those who don’t probably haven’t been on the receiving end of a bully at some point in their lives. They’re the lucky ones. Most of us can’t rely on that kind of luck.
Now, before I go any further, I want to make clear that this isn’t some generic anti-bullying PSA. There are already way too many of those and even if their intentions are good, they don’t always send the right message.
That has been my experience with these campaigns. They claim to understand the dynamics of bullying. They offer a list of responses and recourses, some of which are more helpful than others. Some are downright counterproductive. They all miss one key detail.
Every bullying situation is different.
Every bully is different.
Every target of a bully is different.
The dynamics behind every instance of bullying is different.
In short, not every case of bullying plays out the same way and there’s no one proper way to deal with it. Not every bully is Biff Tannen and not every victim is George McFly. One well-placed punch isn’t going to completely rectify a situation. Just ignoring it won’t rectify it, either.
With that in mind, I’d like to share another personal story about how I dealt with a bully. It’s not nearly as dramatic as you might see in the movies, but it worked out in my favor for the most part. In fact, to say it worked out might be a bit of a stretch. You’ll understand why when you hear the details.
This incident played out when I was in the 9th grade. It was not a good time for me. I was depressed, socially awkward, and had pretty much no self-esteem. I also had a bad attitude that made me fairly unpopular and an easy target. In hindsight, I think it was only a matter of time before a bully found me.
For the sake of this story, let’s call this kid Don. He was no Biff Tannen, but he was a real asshole. This kid was my age, but he was behind the curve when it came to maturity. He and a bunch of like-minded friends liked to goof off, screw with people, and do their own thing. They weren’t exactly caricatures from 80s teen movies, but they were close.
As it just so happened, Don rode the same bus as I did. In fact, he got off at the same stop that I did. He lived less than two blocks from me. Due to that proximity, he took an interest in me. He started teasing me and asking dumb, embarrassing questions. Sometimes he did it on the bus. Sometimes he did it in the middle of a class. Whenever he did it, I hated it.
Me being the immature, self-loathing kid that I was, I didn’t deal with it very well. I often tried to tell him off. I cussed him out. That only seemed to encourage him. I never tried to fight him, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted.
It also helped, somewhat, that I wasn’t in good shape and would probably lose that fight. Don was no athlete, but he was bigger than me and willing to do dumb shit to win. I had no advantages, whatsoever.
I still wanted it to stop. I had enough problems in my life. I didn’t need to deal with Don and his antics. I wasn’t sure how I was going to deal with it. I got some advice from the adults in my life. They often told me to just ignore him and avoid him. If he ever laid a hand on me, then I should go to a school administrator. I didn’t want it to get to that point.
Unfortunately, ignoring Don didn’t make him stop. If anything, it encouraged him to keep doing it. He didn’t get bored. He just saw someone he could tease and get away with. That wasn’t something the anti-bullying PSAs told me.
At some point, I had to respond. Yelling at him wasn’t working. Trying to politely ask him to stop wasn’t working. This was an immature knuckle-head who wasn’t going to be reasoned with. If I was going to respond, it had to be very blunt and very effective.
It finally came to ahead one day on the bus. We were waiting to leave to go home for the day. Like he had before, Don decided to move up to my seat and start harassing me. I don’t remember what he said. I just remember he wouldn’t go away. He kept asking me these dumb question and teasing me when I didn’t respond.
He just would not stop and he would not leave. I was tempted to punch him in the face, but I knew that probably wouldn’t pan out. If I threw the first punch, then I would be blamed for everything. I may have been young, but I knew how school politics work.
Finally, I decided to respond.
I didn’t punch him.
I didn’t break something he had on him.
Instead, I just looked at him with as much hate as I could muster and I spit right in his eye.
At that moment, Don’s goofy and immature demeanor disappeared in an instant. He turned away to rub his eye. I wasn’t sure if he was crying or anything. At the time, I honestly didn’t care. I didn’t move from where I sat. I just remained where I sat, waiting for a response.
Eventually, I got it. He tried to spit at me too. He missed, only hitting my ear. After that, he left and went to the back of the bus with his friends.
That was it.
That was the end of it. Don never talked to me ever again.
Now, I do not recommend anyone do that with a bully. Spitting in someone’s eye isn’t as bad as a punch, but it still counts as assault. Had Don gone to a school administrator, he could’ve gotten me into a lot of trouble. However, he didn’t and I think I know why. He would’ve had to explain why the situation got so heated and since he instigated it, he would’ve gotten in trouble too.
Even so, I’m not proud of what I did. I didn’t feel better about myself. I doubt Don felt better, either. Had there been more witnesses or had someone reported us, it could’ve gotten much worse. At the same time, I could’ve handled that much better, even for a moody teenager.
Again, do not take this as advice for dealing with a bully. There’s a good chance it will not work out as well as it did for me. I got lucky in this case. Don’t expect to get that lucky when dealing with a bully.
Also, Don, if you’re reading this, I apologize for spitting in your eye. However, you were still a huge asshole.
Filed under human nature, Jack Fisher's Insights, psychology, real stories
We all have certain possessions that mean something to us. They don’t always have to be family heirlooms or valuable collectables. Sometimes, we grow attached to certain things that don’t have any real value outside their use. If anyone else had the same thing, they probably would throw it away without a second thought.
It’s not a matter of hoarding, which is an objectively unhealthy habit when done in excess. It’s a matter of just attaching sentimental value for something in an unexpected way.
I bring all this up because something strange happened recently. After coming back from my vacation to the beach, I thought it was high time I buy a new backpack. Actually, that’s just me being polite. I was exceedingly overdue to buy a new means of carrying small items to nearby places.
That’s because, for reasons I don’t have a good explanation for, I’ve been using the same backpack since my senior year of high school. I don’t remember the exact day I bought that backpack, but I can safely surmise it’s nearly 20 years old. To get an idea of just how old it is, it still has a special pocket for flip phones.
I know I probably just dated myself there, but I’m trying to illustrate an important point. That backpack has served me well for many years. I used it through my entire college career. I used it through multiple jobs and careers. I used it while moving several times to new places. It has carried comics, laptops, and any number of critically important items over the years.
Basically, if it was something I had to keep close, it went in my backpack and that backpack never left my side for too long. If it sounds like I’m overstating the value of this thing, I apologize. It’s nothing fancy. It’s just a backpack, but it literally helped carry me through my entire adult life.
Along the way, it stayed intact and durable. In terms of mundane the possessions I’ve owned, it held up better than almost anything from that long ago.
None of my clothes have lasted that long.
None of my gadgets have lasted that long.
Hell, this backpack has outlived most dogs.
Even though I ultimately bought a new one, it’s still relatively intact. Granted, some parts of it have seen some wear and tear. There are some areas that are faded. There are also some parts that have become a bit torn. However, all the zippers still work and all the compartments are still usable. If I had to, I could still take it out of my closet and use it.
Perhaps it’s because it held up for so long that I can’t bring myself to throw it away. I had it with me during some major milestones in my life. It kept me organized and equipped for some major challenges and memorable trips. My life may have changed a great deal since I bought it, but it has remained one of the few constants.
I think, for that reason, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to throw it away anytime soon. I even remember having strange feelings when my new backpack arrived. Once I took it out and cleaned out my old backpack, I found myself just holding it up and looking at it for a good couple of minutes.
It had been a long time since it was completely empty. In holding it like that, I remembered how much I’d used it over the years and how much it helped me in so many ways. For something that wasn’t expensive, flashy, or stylish, it did more than I ever could’ve hoped. How many other possessions can we say that for?
Even though the new backpack I got is considerably better in terms of size, features, and storage, it just doesn’t have the same history as my old backpack. Hopefully, it lasts just as long and carries me through just as many ordeals. Even if it does, I may still have my old backpack lying around somewhere. I may still have it years from now.
If it sounds like I’m making too big a deal about a simple backpack, I apologize. I just wanted to share this strange experience because I think it’s something a lot of people encounter over the course of their lives. They come across some mundane possession and grow attached to it for reasons they don’t understand.
Years later, even after they’ve upgraded to something better, they just can’t bring themselves to throw it away. Maybe it’s a watch, a coffee mug, a footrest, or a blanket. Whatever it is, it means something to us personally. Even if it didn’t cost much when we bought it, it became valuable to us in unexpected ways.
For me, it happened with a simple backpack that I bought during high school. For others, it might have been something else. Having shared my story about my backpack, I welcome anyone with a similar experience to share theirs in the comments. What have you owned that gained unexpected personal value? Whatever it was, I hope it served you as well as my old backpack.
Filed under Jack Fisher's Insights, real stories
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