Fresh Paint
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Department of Things That No Longer Exist
Kitchen matches.

Actually, any matches.

Pilot light on stove went out, scrounged around looking for matches. Realized that since I haven't smoked in 15 years, I don't have any. Since you can't smoke in bars and restaurants any more, I apparently haven't restocked by picking them up near the cash register. Last time I recall using a lot of matches was at the start of the Iraq war, with all the candlelight vigils. Last time the power went out, I snagged a light for the candles from the stove, the one with the pilot light.

The clerk at Walgreens looked at me as though I asked where they kept the buggy whips.

They only sell lighters now that come in packs of 3.

In a box somewhere in my back bedroom is probably an old briefcase or purse or jacket from the days when I smoked (I used to smoke at work, too) that may have a squashed book with one or two left.

What I really want are the wooden ones I remember always lived in a box on a shelf in the cabinet above the stove when I was growing up. I think they were called "safety matches" but I never knew why, since the phrase seems a bit oxymoronic to me.

Until I find them, I guess I can coax a flame from the cigarette lighter in the car.

What? You say they don't exist any longer either?

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