good bye, bag

Liz and I have these massive suitcases that we fill with all our crap that we poorly pack whenever we take a trip. It's usually a major effort to try to ensure the bag doesn't pass the airlines weight limits. You have to pay over 50 lbs and I know these bags could probably handle at least 80 w/o sweating.

Anyway, on Friday I hardly got any sleep trying to wrap up everything I needed to get done and pack so I didn't realize that my giant suitcase was majorly broken until about 1AM before my 730AM flight. It's not surprising that I didn't see it because it's not a surface tear or anything obvious. No, this is stealth damage.

I pushed on a side of the bag by a handle and thought it felt weird. It wasn't solid and moved like two separate pieces. Strange, I thought. So I unzipped the liner in the bag and learned that the thick plastic lining that wraps around the inside of the bag had snapped into two pieces right where the handle bolts into it. I tug on the handle and realize that it's not bolted into anything and is merely attached to the canvas on the outside of the bag. If the bag were full and you lifted it by the handle, it would probably tear the canvas and spill my precious clothes everywhere. I thought about cutting off the handle so it couldn't be lifted that way. For some reason I decided not to....not really sure why though.

I had no option since it was so late so I just packed and hoped for the best. If I could get to Boston, I could always buy a new bag before continuing to Hawaii. Fortunately it was the side handle and not the top handle, but I know how those TSA fellas and bag handlers deal with bags...they lift and throw. I handed my bag off and fortunately it was just dragged over next to several others...standing in wait until someone came to take them all backstage.

For the entire flight I had visions of someone lifting my broken suitcase by it's lame handle and having the entire thing explode onto the tarmac. In my version of this event, a truck runs over all my clothes, just to make things worse. When we got to Boston I waited for them to call my name from the baggage desk only to hear bad news that my suitcase didn't make it, and was no longer with us. I saw a huge American Airlines cardboard box come out with the luggage and checked it to see if it was the remains of my three week's worth of life. It wasn't. And then, seemingly after every other bag had been transported out from behind the scenes there was mine--coming towards me...and in tact!

So I grabbed the bag by it's good handle and did a quick examine. The other handle wasn't even ripped off...I must have gotten lucky. Who ever picked up my bag must not have wanted to use a side handle--maybe he had all day or maybe he never did, I will never know.

In any case, I have my clothes and my camera and my precious iPod speakers. It all survived. Soon it will have a new home. I makes me sad to know I will not be taking my black megahuge bag to Hawai'i where it could be a part of our wedding--it's served me well and deserved the vacation. It's been a good ride though. Farewell, bag. Farewell.