In my wallet


For a period of a couple months, I was all the rage in Provo Relief Societies. I would come in and tell them a thousand and one interesting ways to keep a journal. I even got fan mail, if you can believe it. Not a lot, but I did.

One of my ideas was making lists, and I suggested the contents of a purse, for example, would be a very interesting snapshot for one's posterity to consider.

I may have got the idea from Robert Fulghum (I think) who once wrote an essay recounting a time when he had a bunch of men empty their wallets and discover just what they are carrying around.

If I ever give one of those presentations again, I may suggest blogging as an alternative to journaling for those who know they won't journal anyway. I think there's something about an immediate audience (instead of a decades hence audience) that gets the writer inside moving.

Anyway, I think I'll empty my wallet right now.

Pocket one (the one with a window to reveal my ID):

On top: A bright pink piece of paper, ID-sized, that says "24.99"--taped onto it is a leetle picture of George Clooney, John Turturro and Tim Blake Nelson in prison garb.

Under that: A donor card dated "Sept 10 96ad"

Under that: My BYU ID (the old style current students know not).

Under that: My Utah license punched through the expiration date (Utah took away my California license; California merely punched my Utah license, then let me keep it.)

Under that: My California license that expired in 2000. You should see my hair.

Under that: My current CA license.

Under that: My Costco card.

On the plastic window is a hopelessly faded and ragged "I Voted" sticker.

Opposite pocket (covered in a sticker with a geometric fellow watching tv and saying "Yes!" and a yellow skull warning me "FREE GIFT WITH MEMBERSHIP"):

Upper level:

Financial aid card

My hotline card for the "Ethics Advice Line for Journalists"

My old UCCU membership card

My ordinances cheat sheet

A donor card dated "2000.07.13ad" and with the instructions "Note: please replace any used organs w/ similarly shaped plastic fruit. Thank you."

An undated donor card

Lower lever:

My debit card

My library card


Movie gift card

Flying J discount card

Allstate Club card

Lowest level:

Scrap of paper with unknown phone number in the 208 area code written in pink ink (my handwriting)

There are three more pockets, but I don't want to bore you (or embarrass myself).

In the meantime, if you need an organ, come poke around my corpse.


  1. I'm trying to create a mental image of your wallet, especially considering that there are three pockets to go. I have decided you must be related to Ellen.

    But seriously, Utah is completely stingy with their licenses. And they're ornery about it too. They get all offended. And don't even say, "But in Wyoming . . ."

  2. How big is that wallet? You're going to give yourself sciatica carrying that thing around!

  3. A photo of three guys in prison garb? "That don't make NO seence."

    But I missed your "line of authority" card in there. Please tell me it was in the other part you didn't elaborate on, because that's a very important thing to carry around, you know.

  4. .

    Alas, Daltongirl, no I haven't it.

    But don't worry--I keep my wallet in my front pocket and it's one of the thinner wallets I know.

    The reason there are so many pockets is that the stitching has come undone, creating new frontiers for sticking stuff.

    (ps, this is me, just blogger won't let me log in for some reason...no post today, I guess)

  5. Blogger had best repent and let you post today. I might have to get upset.