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3 of 3 Premium Clicks used this month SUBSCRIBE Print + Online Subscriber Activation | Register x Forgot Password | Need an Account? e-edition | subscribe | newsletter | deals Classifieds Jobs Autos Real Estate FEATURED » NEWS NOW Our View: Dropped golf course a loss for the south coast ... Trading coho for chinook ... UPDATED: Ten dead in UCC shooting ... Our View: Dropped golf course a loss for the south coast ... Trading coho for chinook ... UPDATED: Ten dead in UCC shooting ... SOUTHERN OREGON JOURNAL Southern Oregon Journal: Case of randomly misplaced objects Comment By Peggy Dover for the Mail Tribune MailTribune.com By Peggy Dover for the Mail Tribune Posted Aug. 30, 2015 at 12:01 AM By Peggy Dover for the Mail Tribune Posted Aug. 30, 2015 at 12:01 AM » Social News I couldn’t make this up. It happened the day we picked blackberries at the farm. After driving home, I went inside and sensed the haunting of, “You don’t know where your phone is, do you?” drifting through the nether regions of my brain. I wasn’t scared. We’re old acquaintances by now. It was a cheap flip-phone from the time cellphones first roamed the Earth, but it’s the only one I had, and it did hold my digits, right? A companion phantom suggested meekly that I’d laid it on top of my car while changing from muck boots to shoes. I hesitate to mention this, but you may recall I am the same person who placed her wallet on the trunk and drove off, causing it to fly splaying on the asphalt. We must learn to laugh at ourselves or abandon all hope. I searched the car. Sometimes it falls out of a pocket or purse. When checking the back seat I found a strange red object I didn’t recognize. It was the shape of a small brick and appeared to be some electronic gizmo. The only people who’d ridden in the back were my daughter, Emily, her boyfriend, Jeremy, and Lynn’s granddaughter, Renee. No one had asked about it, so I PUT IT ON TOP OF THE CAR and continued the phone search. I went inside for the cordless phone because I didn’t have a metal detector handy, stood over my purse and dialed. No buzz. I stood next to my open car and dialed, no buzz. I opened my trunk and dialed again and still no response. I decided to drive back to Uncle Dick’s and face the inevitable. It was about the place on Brownsboro Highway where the road curves and the speed limit goes from 25 to 45 that I heard and saw the mysterious brick-shaped object fly off behind me and to the right. I began calling myself several inventive names, turned around, parked, and searched the side of the road, but there was a ditch with water and tall grass. I drove on to the farm. I walked over the long, country driveway, over the creek bridge, and along Highway 140 covering the area where the phone should have slid off. That’s when I saw Cousin Tom’s leather glove I’d borrowed for picking, lying on the shoulder. I picked it up figuring the phone couldn’t be far away, but no luck. I went in the house and asked Michelle, the caregiver, to please tell Tom to keep an eye out for the phone. I headed down the driveway and heard my name. It was Michelle, and I’d left the #@%& phone on the desk. OK, well, I’d recovered Tom’s glove and my phone, and only half the day was gone, so I decided to try to locate the red brick item again. I pulled into the driveway of the house near where the thing had vaulted. I knocked on the door and a young woman answered. Then I had to stand there and tell a complete stranger that a red, brick-shaped object blew off my car, and I didn’t know what it was, but if she found it to please give me a call. I left my number and wondered if she called the police when I left. I walked up and down the road again wondering if it was Emily’s but didn’t plan to mention it because it was GONE. Plus, she hadn’t asked about it until . . . Four days later, at the end of an innocent email there was this, “Hey, will you look and see if my little, red Jambox speaker was left in your back seat?” The deception was foiled, I confessed. When I told her the story, she cracked up and sent me a link to buy a new one, which I did. I wonder if a shock collar would work. Peggy Dover is a freelance writer living in Eagle Point. Reach her at [email protected] and visit her Facebook page at Peggy Dover-writer. By Peggy Dover for the Mail Tribune MailTribune.com By Peggy Dover for the Mail Tribune Posted Aug. 30, 2015 at 12:01 AM » Comment or view comments Reader Reaction » STAY INFORMED Email NewsLetter Sign Up Today Sign up for our newsletter and have the top headlines from your community delivered right to your inbox. Southern Oregon Directory Featured Businesses Loading... 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