What happened to briefcases?
(or, that time my mom made an attempt on my dad's life)
Ideas, thoughts, and memories can be sparked by the most mundane of things. I remember solving a huge technical problem one weekend just visiting my mom’s house. This unlocked a ground breaking online copyright case. This far less technical post was inspired by my browsing of Facebook Marketplace.
I saw this Samsonite briefcase for sale and it is nearly identical to the one my father had when he started out his career selling life Insurance for Standard Life back home in St. John’s, NL. He worked there for many years, before retiring to go on disability when his health started to decline along with his life in general.
.My dad’s career was in sales. He could be very charismatic and convincing. He could also be manipulative and evil, but I think he was generally ethical in his Life Insurance sales years. Before that he worked all sorts of sales jobs, including door to door sales of Catholic memorabilia, furniture sales at the now defunct Woolco department stores, and many more. He once got a special bonus for selling Toshiba televisions, which earned him and mom a trip to Tokyo. That’s a story for another time, as it had a special impact on my life.
Businessmen back then tended to carry briefcases. It was a status thing and Samsonite was a good brand for durable luggage. I’m sure this cost a pretty penny for him, but in sales having a good “image” is said to be important. I’m sure his pride played a part as well. Later on, he ended up buying Samsonite luggage and I think he specifically wanted that back in my parent’s divorce proceedings. It’s funny how you think something is “luxury” or “posh” when in reality the scale of luxury has no limits. Nowadays you too often see people carrying $10,000 handbags down the street, as they walk by unhoused folks clinging to life.
I remember in first grade we had career day and you supposed to dress up in what you wanted to be when you grew up. A kid brought in a briefcase as he wanted to be a “business man”. Another kid wore overalls and said he wanted to be a farmer. That got him a bit of grief from the other kids as it was unusual given we didn’t have a lot of farms back there. Fisherman were well represented, of course. As for me, I wanted to be an “army man”. Before career day, my dad’s brother Uncle Bill stopped by and let me borrow his helmet from his time in Korea, with the Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry. No briefcase for me, that year!
Back in the 2000s I did have a manager who worked for me who started to bring in a briefcase to work. He is from Romania and like here, having a briefcase denoted you were a white collar business man and it represented a certain type of status. It was also really handy for carrying stuff and more formal than a backpack. Nowadays you’d more likely see a leather satchel or something made from “technical fabric”.
My dad loved his briefcase and took great care of it, up until tragedy struck. We only had one car growing up and my mom would drop my dad off at work before bringing some of us to school. At the time my father worked at what is now known as the Fortis building on Water Street. I still remember the phone number of his office and that it was on the nineth floor. The building itself is by the harbour and stands out in almost every photo of St. John’s that you see. Back in the day it was more white than gray, though.
My dad got out of the car, and instead of crossing in front of the car as usual, he crossed behind us. My mom quickly backed up and hit him. His precious briefcase took much of the impact and a bottom corner got caved in (or as we’d say, it was stoved in).
Like other times, my mom knew when to make her getaway in order to avoid conflict. She pretended not to notice the impact, and quickly drove off with my dad yelling from the road. Later that day, when confronted, mom claimed innocence to the encounter, in which my dad elevated to the level of a murderous assassination attempt. Mom had a way of winding him up and getting little bits of petty revenge, so I’m not so sure this was indeed an accident on her part.
His precious briefcase eventually had to be retired due to the damage, and was replaced by a standard looking cheap black fake leather one I think he picked up from Sears.
The problem with pride is that life can quickly humble you when you’re not expecting it. My dad used to say, never boast about having extra money around the car or it’ll break just to keep you humble. I guess it’s the same with briefcases.