Bring back the matches!

Do you sneak a whiff of sulphur when open the book of matches?  Smell those scratchy tops? I do.

I was scrounging for a book of matches last night, lamenting that the fight against smoking has dwindled the bowls of shiny matches at restaurants, bars, and wedding feasts.  I always grab that small token from hostess stands–so much more useful and fun than business cards with the company names–and squirrel them away until needed.

The mug I have kept matches in over the years has shrunk in stature to a smaller container as we use them up. I dumped some out this morning, memories flooding back.  New York-Hong Kong-Chicago-Kansas City-Monroe MI-weddings long since forgotten or broken up-San Francisco-Dayton.

No, we might not inhale the nicotine, but we do use candles and grills and fire pits.  And matches are more personal than the fire lighter we use.  Bring back the matches-  Keep the memories!  Hand off a pack with a map to a destination to a friend.  How cool is that? C

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