THERE ARE MANY FOBS IN MY LIFE

Despite the often unspoken criticism against them, they definitely do serve their purposes in my life. But one recent day, I actually stopped and pondered, no, ANATOMIZED just how much I have taken my relationship with fobs for granted. They are an oft misunderstood and forgotten segment of our society, banished to the likes of our keychains, waistbands and trinket boxes. Yet, when their absence causes a moment of inconvenience or, worst yet, crisis, that is when I must proclaim "I love my fobs! I need my fobs!"

Without my fobs, I can't get in and out of my condo. I'm sure my communal mailbox could be retrofitted so that a fob could get my mail for me (or at the very least grant me access to the mail slot). I can't get into my office without a fob, which includes the main doors, the security gates, the elevator and the actual door leading to my cubicle. Which means I can't go to the washroom without my fob. I can't lock up my bike or take a shower. And from what I hear, there are fobs that pay for your gas. In fact, you don't even need your keys to get in and out of your car or to start it for that matter. Your fob just needs to be close by! Amazing what these fobs can do!

Yes, I love this RFID technology. All you have to do is have your fob (or access card) within a couple of feet of the sensor and all is good: access gained, payment made, engine started. I must admit that having so many of them does cause some minor inconveniences. So, the point of this post stems from one of those hallucinatory moments I had while doing a recent long run. I am certain that there is a pretty coin to be made if, somehow, a programmable RFID transmitter can be embedded into a cell phone or PDA, feeding the right code to the right sensor. This way, you only have to carry one item and discard the many fobs that clutter our lives.

I typically do my long runs on Sundays before service. This usually means that I hobble into church and it is quite a struggle to stay “focused” (read: awake) for the 35 minute sermon. So, as an aid, I’ve been bringing my trusty MEC mug filled with something that has caffeine in it. Thankfully, the consumption of coffee is actually encouraged during service (we have a coffee break right in the middle of the service, which is also time that can be used to greet those sitting nearby). Today, before hobbling into church, I hobble into a nearby Second Cup for a cup of their thickest black gold. No, the other type of black gold as this is Alberta after all. And I am reminded that while living in a smaller city, there is a certain sense of simplicity that accompanies that. I don’t mean less intelligent or incompetent, just a different way of seeing things. Like installing security systems on the houses and cars, yet leaving both unlocked always. Like getting very helpful assistance while shopping at Home Depot from someone who doesn't even work there. So, I'm waiting for my drink and the baristas are talking about how Prince Harry had visited a local nightclub and supposedly hit it up with one of the shooter girls. I didn't what this term was originally; apparently, it's a waitress who delivers the shooters to the patrons). It a really big deal here and has made the front page of the local newspaper. So, the following dialogue ensues between the two baristas:

"I can't believe he was Cowboys. And, he's got this crush on one of the shooter girls" (honestly, I don't remember the last time I heard the term crush not used in the context of high school or below relationships)
"Yeah, I was planning on going but was like too tired. But it's all here in the newspaper."
"Oh, oh! Can I see the pictures?!"
"Finish making the drink first!!!!"

Sounds like they're still looking for Prince Charming...