The Peabody Papers 2019, Paris and Brittany, Unmapped
Sep 30th, 2019 | 04:57 PM
#41
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Finale: The Miracle of the Brass Button
How does this fit into a trip report? Well, I’ll tell you the story. I like to check out estate sales if convenient to my home. Earlier this year, I went to one just before closing. There were a few clothing items left that had not sold. I tried on a blue blazer. It fit. It cost me $5. It probably was unworn, since the pockets were still basted shut. The labeling was that of a famous Italian designer. As the blazer fit well, I took it on the trip, both as clothing and as a multipocketed filing system.
Now the travel part: I wore it on the plane. At one point in the night on the way to Paris, I was trying to sleep while squirming for some sort of comfort in the sardine seat. I felt a pop. One of the front brass buttons had caught under the armrest and got itself ripped off during a vigorous squirm. I did what I could to find the button, aided by a flight attendant, to no avail. My wife and I searched again after the plane unloaded, but found nothing. I was resigned to eventually buying a new set of matching brass buttons.
Now the miracle: Sitting on a couch in the Atmospheres Hotel lounge, waiting for a cab, I felt a pain from something poking my butt. It wasn’t from the couch. I reached into the back pocket of my pants. Lo and behold, it was the wayward brass button! I have yet to figure out how a button from the front of my blazer got into a back pocket. Even harder to imagine was how it could have been there undetected for three days. I ascribe it all to a miracle.
How does this fit into a trip report? Well, I’ll tell you the story. I like to check out estate sales if convenient to my home. Earlier this year, I went to one just before closing. There were a few clothing items left that had not sold. I tried on a blue blazer. It fit. It cost me $5. It probably was unworn, since the pockets were still basted shut. The labeling was that of a famous Italian designer. As the blazer fit well, I took it on the trip, both as clothing and as a multipocketed filing system.
Now the travel part: I wore it on the plane. At one point in the night on the way to Paris, I was trying to sleep while squirming for some sort of comfort in the sardine seat. I felt a pop. One of the front brass buttons had caught under the armrest and got itself ripped off during a vigorous squirm. I did what I could to find the button, aided by a flight attendant, to no avail. My wife and I searched again after the plane unloaded, but found nothing. I was resigned to eventually buying a new set of matching brass buttons.
Now the miracle: Sitting on a couch in the Atmospheres Hotel lounge, waiting for a cab, I felt a pain from something poking my butt. It wasn’t from the couch. I reached into the back pocket of my pants. Lo and behold, it was the wayward brass button! I have yet to figure out how a button from the front of my blazer got into a back pocket. Even harder to imagine was how it could have been there undetected for three days. I ascribe it all to a miracle.
