We're one month into '16 and my world is filled with keys. All shapes and sizes which open, figuratively and literally, my next chapter of life.
I have keys to two cars, padlocks on two storage facilities, and two houses – all in different cities, mind you, and neither a vacation home or sports car driven just on weekends for fun. And these disparate pieces of metal are in addition to a motley assortment of pre-2016 keys to:
- two briefcase-sized fireproof lockboxes. These contain 10 or so external drives filled with terabytes upon terabytes of irrecoverable video footage and audio recordings.
- a bank's safety deposit box I've never used but ridiculously continue to pay for. Frankly, I'm not even sure the box number.
- a bike rack that's not currently on either car, but I continue to hold out hope.
- a padlock to a rarely used, rather unwieldy bike cable.
- a bathroom to an employer I left in 2001 which I've used off and on over the years when in a pinch. I've been quite pleasantly surprised the property management company hasn't changed the locks after all these years. My bladder has sent repeated thanks.
- my ex-wife's current house and the one that's been under perpetual state of remodel, all in the spirit of kid logistics. With both now in college, I'm quite certain these should be returned.
- the two backup keys to said cars. Quite crucial to have, I had the misfortune of finding out last Fall when my daughter lost the only key we had to 'her' vintage '01 Passat. So when we had to have one made, I splurged and went for two.
In an effort to present simplicity, I only carry one car key and one house key around on a single ring. No spiffy keychain. The others are buried in the primary car's middle console, under the napkins, receipts, gum, and cables. Because there's something about seeing a man with a gaggle of keys hanging off his belt I try to avoid.
Perhaps influenced by handyman Schneider on the somewhat campy 80s sitcom One Day at a Time, I've assumed that if you're traveling through the world on a daily basis with a gazillion keys, you're either a janitor, a maintenance man, or property manager. Which are all fine, upstanding professions. Just not on my list. Not the vibe I want to convey. Besides, they're uncomfortable to have around when driving or creating magic at the computer.
I'll have my new LA digs squared away over the next month and intend to celebrate by reducing my key count once and for all. Wish me luck!