Searching for a Non-Existent Item, by Carl Owen

I’ve had a lot of experience searching for things. If I am working in the shop and I need a pencil to make marks on wood, I have learned to take two or three pencils with me and keep them close to the work project. No matter how hard I try I experience the same results. I turn around to get a pencil and all three pencils have walked off. I now order my pencils by the gross (144 pack). I think I have two left which reminds me that I need to place another order. The last time I ordered the pencil company sent me a brochure and directions on how to order pencils wholesale. The same things happen with screwdrivers. If I need a Phillips head screwdriver, I know that having one available is not sufficient. I will take three or four to the work-site. When I get to the point of needing the screwdriver, I turn slowly around knowing that the screwdrivers have ESP and have already walked off or hidden themselves. I have thought about installing cameras.

So over the years, numerous pencils, screwdrivers and other tools have mysteriously disappeared and gone into another dimension. I won’t even talk about the hundreds of socks that have walked off into a parallel universe. I had a nightmare once about opening a closet door and having hundreds of screwdrivers, pencils, books and socks come cascading out of the closet onto my head. They must be together, right? At any rate, with the screwdrivers; when they come on sale, I buy 15 or 20 Phillips head screwdrivers. However, if I went to my shop right now, I would only be able to find a straight slot.

I figured there is perfectly simple explanation. Some cosmic voodoo expert has cast a spell on me and laughs hardily every time they see the confused look on my face when I turn around to reach for the screwdriver or pencil to find it gone. What the heck does a voodoo expert need with that many pencils and screwdrivers?

I will admit that once in a while I put something in a safe place to shorten my search time and forget where the safe place was. I once bought a CD by Lari White and I bought it for one particular song. So, knowing that my son Kyle occasionally walks off with one of my CD’s I put it in a safe place that I figured Kyle would not find. Well, my plan worked too well. I put it in a too safe place. So after several days of in-depth search and a third degree grilling of Kyle under a bright spotlight, I bought another CD. My first CD was on sale for $12.98. The voodoo expert knew I was buying another so when I got to the music store a voodoo looking guy was busy pasting new prices on the CD’s. My replacement CD cost $16.99. Feeling safer with an odd priced CD, I went home to put it in a safe place. I thought and thought. What place can I put the CD where I can remember where I put it and protect it from Kyle and the voodoo guy? Finally, it hit me. Put it in the laundry room on top of the freezer right by the bottles of wine. Aha, what a brilliant idea. I walked smugly into the laundry room and placed the CD on top of the freezer right on top of my original CD.

I tell you this story to let you know that even I can search endlessly for something and get frustrated. I sat down one time and tried to put on paper a plan to keep from losing pencils. I made a little holder with holes drilled in it and stuffed about 10 pencils in the holder and put the holder on the workbench in my shop. I was successful in using one of the pencils and as soon as I used it, I turned slowly around and placed it in the holder. Aha, all ten pencils accounted for. I counted them twice and turned back to my project. About 10 minutes later, I turned confidently around and reached for a pencil from the pencil holder and all ten pencils had vanished in thin air. I thought for a minute that I heard a voodoo like laugh in the air but could not see the rascal. To make matters worse when I came back in the house to get more pencils, Anita said: “what are you doing with all those pencils? Pretty soon, you won’t have room for your table saws in the shop with all the pencils you are taking there”. Well, I didn’t tell her that that was why I had three table saws because I figured they were next on the disappearing agenda. I am thinking of ways to take advantage of this thing. I will take a bag of trash with me to the shop and put it in a corner. But, so far, every time I turn around the trash bag is still there. Maybe the voodoo guy is not so easily fooled or may be smarter than I give him credit.

Anyway, this is a prelude to a story about someone looking for a non-existent article. I don’t want to name names because I don’t want to embarrass my daughter xxxx I mean this person who will remain anonymous. I will just refer to the two people as anonymous person one and anonymous person two. No, better yet to make the story more realistic, I will give the two people random names. I will call my daughter xxx I mean the first anonymous person Margaret and I will call the other anonymous person Michael.

Anyway, far off in Sarver, Pennsylvania (fictitious name) anonymous person one calls me and says: Dad, we are going crazy here. Michael is ranting and raving because we can not find the book. I said what book are you talking about Anonymous person one.

She said the repair book for the Chevy Malibu. I said, Margaret, I mean anonymous person one what repair book are you talking about? The daughter, I mean anonymous person one said: We ordered this repair book on the Chevy Malibu and Michael or anonymous person two cannot find the book to see where the oil filter is located. I asked Margaret, “Why do you need a book, just lift the hood or crawl under the car and look and you will see the oil filter.” Anonymous person one said, Dad, Anonymous person two has already done that and he can’t find it. I wondered briefly if the voodoo guy was visiting Sarver Pennsylvania when Margaret said, Dad are you there? Yes, daughter, I mean anonymous person one, I am here, I was just thinking of something. Have you seen a strange looking voodoo type person around the car? Dad, have you been drinking again? I am talking about searching for this book. We have searched every square inch of the house and it costs like $25.00 and it is nowhere to be found. I could hear anonymous person two in the background yelling: Margaret, where would you put a big book? Wouldn’t you put it on a bookcase? Why is it we can’t find anything we need in this house? Everything should have a place and everything should be put in its place. Obviously Michael did not know about my pencil and screwdriver story. He ranted a while and then he raved awhile and finally I told Margaret, I mean anonymous person one: Have you looked in the glove box of the car? That is where an owner’s manual should be placed? Dad, says she this is not a little book like an owner’s manual. This is a big repair book. How big says I? About 10 inches by 12 inches says the daughter. What color is the book? I don’t remember says anonymous person one. Where would you have put it? Duh says she. O.K. just look on the computer to locate the oil filter or call the Chevy dealer says I. When did you order the book? Well, about 3 months ago says she.

Where would you have put the book? Duh says she. Well, I could still hear Michael muttering in the background and I was growing tired of the topic, so I said: “Daughter, my phone has a lot of static on it as I made sounds like ssssshhhhkkkkkk, brrrrrrzzzzsss into the phone. Margaret says oh Dad, you are not going to try to pull that again are you?

I says, if you can still ssssklllyy brryyyss hear me, I can’t hear you and I’m not trying to pull anything ssssskkkk there is a lot of static…..I’ll call you back later when the phone is better. Goodbye. So I takes 4 or 5 aspirin to calm the headache from the drama.

So, about two hours later the phone rings and the caller id says it is anonymous person one. Reluctantly, I pick up the phone prepared for more soap opera about the missing book. Surprised was I to hear my daughter laughing as I picked up the phone. Dad, she says, you are going to laugh. We looked through our records and we never ordered the book. We were going to but we never got around to it. I said: Daughter, my phone is ssyylkkls rkkkbbb making ssrorsl static sounds.sssi oposjps[gj;;jgp;. She finally got tired of listening to my static imitations and hung up so I wrote this story to get even with her for putting me through the missing book soap opera story.