On Saturday, I came down with an acute case of cabin fever. It has been rainy or cloudy for 1,985 days in a row and I was pacing around the house bored out of my mind. Despite the rain, we ventured outside and took a 7 mile hike which everyone handled with ease. The kids only complained that we didn’t pack enough snacks, but their legs held up fine. Little Rosie, the daschund, kept up with us without any issue, I was proud of our effort.
When we returned from the hike, I was in the garage and my wedding band flew off, rattled and bounced off one hundred items and settled somewhere that I could not find. After losing about 60 lbs., it was falling off often and I was in desperate need of a new one. I went back to the Philadelphia area on Sunday because I had a follow up kidney appointment on Monday. Sunday afternoon, I went to Lambertville and walked into a jewelry shop in hopes to find a replacement wedding band. The shop was not your typical jewelry shop, it was rickety, not bright and flashy as I was expecting. It was a weird emporium, reminded me of the movie Gremlins, the place where the father bought Gizmo.
Anyways, I asked if they has wedding bands and the clerk replied with an enthusiastic affirmative. She took me to a case of about a dozen old rings, some whose polish wore off years ago. She explained that this was an estate jewelry store and that this was all essentially “used”. One of the rings looked good enough, I put it on my finger and it fit much better than the last one. We completed the transaction and all was good, or so I thought. People are suggesting the possibility that the used ring was sold due to unfortunate circumstances and could possibly be tainted with bad karma. No one ever assumed the opposite (that it possesses an amazing super power, like it could make me invisible if I turn it just right). This is my third wedding band and figure it cannot have worse luck than the first two. I will say that the luckiest thing about losing my first two wedding bands is that they both were lost right in front of my wife. You are going to catch hell for losing your wedding ring, but I suspect it is less hell if she sees how it happens. My first band is in the Delaware River, my second is in the garage. Let’s hope this one lasts a lot longer, I am averaging about 5 years per band.