What's In Your Wallet?

Feeling particularly inspired, and trying to follow a pseudo-resolution for the new year to stay ahead of the curve, my wife began to file and organize the paperwork in advance of arriving T4 forms and such.  The goal is to be ready to file income taxes early, in order to receive a quicker pay out.  Assuming of course that we’ll get money back.  I won’t pretend to understand how taxes work.  Numbers confuse me in the best of times, so sifting through forms, and then accurately transposing the right numbers in the right places would be a perennial nightmare for me.  It is for many; that’s why H&R Block exists.  However, I have been fortunate to have a spouse who is quite good at this sort of thing, let alone one who understands the whole process.  That has included filing business tax paperwork for our rental apartments, her scrapbooking businesses of years past, student loans, and anything to do with our children.  A buddy of mine, who was my roommate at one time, tried in vain for days to file his own taxes.  He was so overwhelmed by the process that he began to forget simple multiplication facts.  I laughed at him, a lot.  In hindsight, I applaud him for at least giving it a try, and can’t help but remember his fumbling for basic facts every time I flub a math question on the chalk board.  It happens to the best of us, and always at the worst of times.

My wife has a very reliable system for filing paperwork, so the best I can do is be an assistant of sorts while she’s figuring out what to put in what file, which years we can safely shred, and in what order they’ll appear in the filing cabinet.  It’s easy enough to do, as long as you give yourself enough time, and you don’t wait until everything is one big jumbled mess.  Her proactive instincts paid off, because over the course of the afternoon, we played some music and sifted through some great memories as we pitched old papers, some yellowing from age, some with logos of companies that are actually defunct (such as Wacky Wheatley’s, and NB Tel before it was absorbed by Aliant).  Some of the things we found as we picked through layers of receipts and statements went into a separate pile.  These were things that we didn’t need to keep out of necessity, but things that brought back great memories.  There were certificates and letters of correspondence from when we lived down south, various forms and letters about our first house, which we bought in September of ’02 (including pictures and the original inspection report, which may yet be important).  There wasn’t much in this pile when we were finished, but we decided to dedicate one file in the cabinet to keep the miscellaneous things, the papers worth more in memories than in anything financial.

I then decided, by this time inspired myself, to take on the less tedious task of cleaning out my wallet.  Most of you would think that this is a minor chore; I mean, really, how much can you fit in a wallet anyway?  It’s not like I carry a purse.  It’s a good thing I don’t.  You would be amazed to see what I had stored in a small fake-leather billfold that measures about ten square centimeters.  I know I was.

 Another friend, who is always brutally honest with me when dispensing advice or remarking on some odd quality about me, once said: “You keep way too much in your wallet!  You can’t possibly need all the stuff you keep in there!  Just leave all that in your glove compartment, then bring in only what you need when you actually need it!”  His idea makes sense, to some degree.  Yes, I would love to lighten the load, and yes, I only use certain things in specific instances.  So, I decided to empty the contents, spread them out, and make two piles.  One for the cards I absolutely have to keep in my wallet, and the other for cards I can safely keep in the dash.  I ended up with three piles.

The following is a break-down of what I culled from the various little pockets in my wallet and deemed to be of the utmost importance, and would remain on my person at all times:

Ø   Driver’s License:  This one was a no-brainer.  My wallet has a small card-holder with a transparent window, and my driver’s license was naturally kept there.  The few times in the last few years I’ve ever had to bring it out, I’ve only had to show the leather insert with my license exposed; I can’t recall ever having to remove it from the actual window.  Today I did, and the plastic card with my dead glare looks like its decades old, even though it only expires in 2014.  It appears that the transparent window is yellowed and scratched on the inside and out, and the card, from so many months in the right rear pocket of my pants, has been sat on so often it’s scuffed and scraped almost to the point that it’s barely legible.  Luckily there’s a digital code thingy on it, so if I ever needed to be identified and they couldn’t tell who I was in the picture or the writing, they might be able to scan my information.  Regardless, it makes sense to me to keep it in my wallet, so it stays.

Ø  Medicare:  Another obvious choice.  If I am ever hurt to the point I need to produce my Medicare card, I should have it on me, because I wouldn’t likely be in the mood to mosey out to the van to fetch my lifeline to good ‘ole Canadian Medicare.  Paying for medicine and filing through Blue Cross when we lived in the States was a pain in the backside.  Literally.  That’s where they gave me the needle.  This little credit card-shaped life-saver, with its expensive New Brunswick provincial logo and the Hopewell Rocks silhouetted in the background is staying on me, no doubt about it.

Ø  My New Brunswick Teachers Association membership card is staying.  I often need my membership number, and like all numbers, I can’t seem to commit it to memory.  Having this on me is important.  Having four years’ worth of them is not.  I kept the current one, but relegated the others to another pile.

Ø  NBTF Group Insurance Plan card:  I have to keep this, because I have no idea how insurance works.  If I’m ever in a jam, I can flash this bad boy, and all my problems will go away.  Or at least someone can point me in the right direction.  There’s no expiration date on it, so I’m good with that one.  And like the NBTA membership card, it’s paper rather than plastic, so it’s much thinner and easier to conceal in the billfold. 

 

Ø  I have a road-side assistance card which we acquired when we bought the Grand Caravan last summer.  Of course, this was not in my wallet last week when I locked myself out of the van while it was running in the school parking lot.  I actually didn’t realize that I had roadside assistance, but thankfully a kind colleague helped me out with her CAA, and I was on the road in a jiff.  How did I not know?  Beats me.  My wife says I don’t listen to her enough.  Score one point for her, apparently.  To never be in this situation again, I definitely need to keep this in my wallet, because it would do me little good in the glove compartment.

Ø  VISA and Debit Card:  These are equally important, and for several reasons, most of which are obvious.  A simple break-in, and I could have either my credit card maxed, or my bank account emptied.  A would-be thief would be disappointed with what they found in either case, but you get my meaning.  If you know me at all, you can imagine the colourful language that would spew forth when I got to the cash register only to realize my method of payment wasn’t in my pocket.  Cash, you ask?  I don’t carry more than $20 at a time, and even then it’s rare.  Predictably, there were no bills in my wallet at the time of purging.  We’ll get to the change purse later.

Ø  I opted to keep only two club or membership cards in my wallet.  Really, I could keep both in the dash, but for as often as I use them, and the little space they occupy, it’s better for my peace of mind to just leave them where I can reach them easily.  I chose to keep both my Co-op and Costco cards at my fingertips, simply because I use them frequently, and I would be better served to have them on me than to rifle through my console.  Both cards are primarily used for fuel purchases.  I generally dislike Costco, but I’ll reserve that for a future entry.

All told, I kept six plastic cards and three paper ones, amounting to nine in total, before looking at the picture holder and the change purse.  Here’s a run-down of what I opted to remove:

Ø   Social Insurance Card:  I got this when I was sixteen, and I still have the same actual card.  It was once white, but now is green/grey, and several chunks are missing, yet the number is still there.  I couldn’t commit this number to memory until I had to fill out time-sheets as a supply teacher every two weeks.  It’s safe to say I can remove it now.  I heard they don’t even issue physical cards for your SIN anymore. 

Ø   UNB Student ID Card:  Since I haven’t been a student at UNB since 2009, this one was an easy choice.  Three years’ worth of validation stickers are slowly eroding from it.  I still have my old St. Thomas ID from 1993-1997.

Ø  Firearms License:  Yes, I have one of these.  I own a rifle.  My dad keeps it with his collection, and I can’t even remember the last time I fired it.  My license is for possession only, as opposed to the acquisition variation I would have needed if I wished to purchase more firearms or ammunition.  Wished, in the past tense, since the National Firearms Registry has been abolished, and I am not sure if this card is obsolete or not.  Regardless, it’s long-expired, and is now more an artifact than a necessity.  I used to use this whenever two pieces of photo ID were required.  I used to joke that it was my prison ID card, because I look like a fellon in it.

 

Ø  Medicare:  Yes, I already spoke of this.  Except that was my own card.  This is my son Kieran’s card, which expired in 2010.  My wife keeps the boys’ Medicare in her purse.  I had his card in my wallet when I once had to bring him to the doctor a few years ago.  It might have been the time when he fell off the bed and needed stitches… on Superbowl night.  I watched my team, the Saints, win their first championship at the Chalmers emergency room.  Kieran was so brave that night.  Holding his Medicare card brought all that back.

Ø  Gift Cards:  I have plastic gift cards for the following:  Future Shop; EB Games; Chapters; Tim Hortons; Mastercard.  I don’t have any way of knowing right away if there is any money left on them, but I’m willing to bet there’s less than a dollar’s worth total between them.  Of course, I can use the left-over in conjunction with a future purchase, but will I remember that I have them in the dash whenever that situation arises?  I guarantee I will forget, because I obviously forgot they were in my wallet in the first place.  They’re all plastic, so they took up a lot of space.

Ø  Library Cards:  I’ll describe the other membership cards I found, but first, the NB Public Library cards.  Plural, you ask?  I have both the boys’ cards as well.  I also have the key-chain card with the scanner code for Kieran’s account.  With these, it was less for convenience, and more so that I wouldn’t lose them elsewhere.  It’s worked so far, but they are cumbersome, and we rarely go to the library.  Having all three has come in handy though; I once borrowed all three’s quota in CDs.  I hope I don’t owe any money on their accounts; I’m pretty sure that would be a parenting-fail moment.  They can stay in the dash.

Ø  Membership or club cards:  I have cards from the following:  Ultramar’s Valuemax; Value Village’s Supersaver (of which I am disgruntled, because I have yet to see any purpose in this), and my Bull Moose Frequent Buyer Card.  This is a fantastic second-hand music and entertainment store in Bangor.  I only get to Bangor once or twice a year, but if I left the card in my van, I might not be in the States in my own vehicle, and I would be quite mad if I missed a chance to use my membership card on an infrequent visit.  The deal isn’t great, but it’s better than a kick in the pants.

Ø  There were also miscellaneous pieces of paper with valid information stuffed in there.  I have hastily scribbled passwords, account numbers, and phone numbers I absolutely need to keep on me at all times.  I question the wisdom of keeping passwords in my wallet, but again, if I need my Scholastic account number in a pinch, it’s there.  A couple weeks ago, I couldn’t log into my own blog account because I had actually forgotten the password.  Once I went through getting a new one, I wrote it down on a piece of paper which has my Scouts Canada, Youtube, Apple, and Google ID numbers, email, and even my cell phone number.  The way I see it, worrying about password security is like locking your door.  If someone wants in badly enough, they’ll break the window and climb in anyway.  You should still lock your door though.

I also found receipts, some of which were necessary to keep, coffee club cards from various shops, a Carleton Cards stamp card, various phone numbers (some even with names on them), and even scraps of paper that I couldn’t even read from so much wear.  I used to keep a valet key for my old Caravan, because I once locked myself out of it, and thanks to the valet key, I would never again find myself in such a predicament.  I mentioned earlier that the change purse also adds to the trouble of my fat wallet.  The old imprint of the shape of the key is still there behind the billfold.  Yes, there are lots of coins there, especially pennies and nickels, but who else has a handful of small spare Lego pieces in their wallet?  Colby got a Toy Story Lego set the last time he was in the hospital, and we needed to make sure the extra parts got brought home, so my change purse seemed a logical solution at the time.  Three months later, it’s time I think to get them out and into the boys’ Lego bucket where they belong.

Last but certainly not least is the photo sleeve.  I have my wife’s university graduation picture from 1996 when we first started dating.  I have my boys’ baby pictures, and a few family photos from before Colby was even born.  All are worn and faded now, and the writing on the back is smudged and illegible.  They have survived remarkably well though.  They were in my wallet in 2003 when I accidentally wore it into the ocean when we were in the Bahamas.  They were buried so deep, the water didn’t even get into the little plastic sleeve at the heart of my wallet.  If they’ve survived this long, I feel like it would be wrong to remove them now.  If I had to keep anything in this long laundry list, these pictures would be at the top, even though I have duplicates of them in photo albums.

Going through these little cards and souvenirs was a great experience.  I’m a pack rat by nature, and I’ve never disputed that.  I spoke of three piles for the cards I removed from my wallet.  They were for keeping in the wallet itself, keeping in the dash, and the third pile was for keeping in my desk drawer.  I have a small wooden box there, about half the size of a Kleenex box, in which I keep card-sized mementos from over the years.  That old St. Thomas ID card is there, as is my first Blockbuster membership, and countless other keepsakes.  One day I’ll organize them into a photo album, maybe even with comments.  I tell myself that one day my kids and grandkids will appreciate the effort I put into telling them the story of my earlier years, long before I lost my memory and my spine was permanently warped from so many years of sitting on a bloated, overflowing wallet.