Just like mom used to make.
I knew when I was getting married that I didn’t want an expensive ring. This was for two reasons, I think the concept of the ring is enough and I didn’t want a giant bill when I inevitably lost it. So I searched online for something simple. Titanium rings are what I found. They apparently sell for over $100 each, but if you pay that price you have no Google skills and should be locked away from a computer. On Amazon they sell for $7. I bought 2 originally but misplaced them and bought 4 more a year later.
I lost the first ring in a field in North Carolina. I was coming back in from the stage area at Smilefest when while playing with the ring I flipped it off my finger and off into the night. I couldn’t find it that night so I made a mental note of where the tent was to my left and lined up the location of a picnic table. Like some kind of drunken mental pirate map, Â but the next day wasn’t any better. When you tell people that you’ve lost your wedding ring, they are very concerned for you. It kind of feels nice. But then when you explain that it’s not a big deal because you paid $7 for it they give you a very different look. One of confusion and a little pity thrown in for good measure.
The next one I left at a middle school gym after playing pick Â up basketball there. I called them in the morning and the days after that but nobody every returned it. Either it’s still there or someone tried to pawn it and then realized that it was worthless.
So now I’m on ring #3, there’s been some close calls with this one. I did loose it for a few days and had to put ‘ring #4’ into operation for a while, but it eventually showed up in the laundry. But I’ve really gotten into the habit of keeping track of it. I guess at this point I could get an expensive one, but I really don’t see the point. The new one would still be a silver ring, just 100x more expensive.
What really matters is the symbol of wearing a ring and showing everyone that you’ve made a commitment to another person.
Something is the matter with me, I can’t seem to give things away. I have some sick attachment to the past. I have to have things marinate for a certain amount of time before something is deemed, trash. But, in practice, that time frame seems to be about 15 years. By that time why would I give it away, I’ve had it for 15 years. It’s a circular logic trap, for which the only cure seems to be a wife.