August 3, 2011 ☞ Personal inventory
This was resting on top of a hedge in San Francisco when I found it. This makes sense, as hackey sacks are well-known for finding themselves in strange and supra-arboreal situations all the time. As a non-athletic nerd in high school, I used to hackey sack a lot. Lazily kicking one of these around for 15 minutes amounted to a solid workout. It also made my decision to wear Vans a legitimate and practical fashion choice, as they are crucial for stalls.
This bag reminds of years ago, when my friends and I were hackeying in Town Square and a lanky Polish dude approached us. His hesitating body language and “weird accent” immediately revealed that this was some kid visiting for the summer, and thrilled that he was in the proximity of kids his own age. It’s amazing how a mere change of locale can give you the nerve to approach a bunch of strangers in search of friendship.
Foreign as he was, he was, really, really good at manipulating that sack. I tell you: there is nothing more disheartening than watching a stranger demonstrate skills you can never achieve. I didn’t touch a hackey sack again until this rainbow striped bag appeared to me on the West Coast, and reminded me of that beanbag gifted beanpole Pole.