The Legend of Old Bagsy

Oh, hi there. You caught me walking down memory lane. I was just looking at some old pictures of my backpack. Look, here’s Bagsy the day I adopted it. So new! I can’t believe the color was ever that bright! And look, it still has the zipper pull on the front pocket!

There were some uncomfortable times - but aren’t there always, when you become a new backpack owner? Here’s Bagsy a couple of months later, hanging on my shoulders the way it always liked to. We’d really bonded by then. I had Packy trained pretty good - or maybe Bagsy trained me. Those were good times.

Oh, this one. Yeah. This is after the big Coke Zero spill. Look at those stains. Poor thing. At least it wasn’t sticky. Everybody told me it might be time to think about letting Bagsy live out its life in comfort, maybe get a new backpack, but I couldn’t see it. How could I? It was my pal. My bud. My best friend. My backpack.

And then, yeah. We were just out walking one day, like we always did, when suddenly Bagsy started tilting over to one side. I knew right away something was really wrong. Its left strap was broken. The buckle just snapped right in half. I fixed it up with a big safety pin, but even I had to admit, Bagsy’s days of regular walks were over.

That’s when I got my Solo Urban 16" Backpack. It wasn’t a replacement - nothing could replace Bagsy - but Urbie had his own charm. I’d kinda forgotten how how springy and fresh and clean a new backpack could be. It’s so eager to carry my laptop, and it’s so cute when it carries two bottles around in its mesh side pockets.

And Bagsy? These days, it mostly just lounges around the closet. It’s made good friends with Chuck and Chuck, my old Converse high-tops. But I still take Bagsy out sometimes on a camping trip or to the beach. And you know all those tiny bits of food you inevitably drop in a well-used backpack? Well, I think Bagsy might be pregnant with some microorganisms of its own. Circle of life, man.