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