Things for your travel kit

Finally got the hang of winter. It involves nana rugs, shades of yellow, bicycle rides under leafless trees and playing tickle games. Andy listened to a story about a long-ago romantic interest, was of the opinion that when asked to a documentary.  rather than assessing it on merits of "would I find the film enjoyable?" (NO), I should have asked "will sitting alone in a cinema for an hour in close proximity to someone who has sent three thoughtful emails in a week, be a way of getting to know him better?"

Earlier we'd caught up with Adam for his birthday. Rachel reassured me that it's not so bad that Pavement will probably never tour Adelaide again, but to think hard about which bands are most likely to die young. Rachel is good with advice. She has workshopped a strategy to ensure I have a conversation with Simon Day if I meet him again: carry a copy of a Ratcat album whenever in Sydney (I'm meant to take the record out of the sleeve, only the sleeve travels) so I have something for him to sign and he will have to say something, I'll have to say something and it will be conversation). 

Here is my travel kit ideas of what you should always have on you:  
1. Something that helps you speak when you experience social paralysis like a laminated card with some polite questions. Normally you only do this if in a foreign-language country...but for shy peeps. 
2. Paw paw cream. My work mate Gaz always carried a tube around and would squeeze out a dollop for your hand, and it gave the impression he was a cool, down to earth, sharing guy, which he was!
3. Purple band aids. Beige is bad.
4. Coffee change for homeless people. 
5. A proper, old fashioned toothbrush and toothpaste holder.  

Yesterday at the markets, kid played in the sandpit with a hippie kid and they took turns in jumping on castles and wrestling. Hippie dad would occasionally say "Play gently, Tomahawk, play gently".