The evolution of the trouser pocket

Once upon a time all a man needed when he went out was a hanky in his left pants pocket, his wallet - either in the right front or right rear pocket and, if he was fancy, a comb in his sock.His wallet contained only money and perhaps a condom as the devil hadn't yet invented credit cards.
What a happy fellow he was and, he was able to scoff at the ladies with their silly handbags that held everything except the kitchen sink.
Sadly most women still carry those small suitcases but, no matter the designer label, they can't compete with
THE MANBAG
What do they keep in there you may ask, as do I. Let me guess
His wallet, cellphone, Ipod, Ipad, Wii, Swiss army knife, Leatherman, lip ice (I'm clutching at straws here) and perhaps a change purse.
I see younger men walking through the shopping centres wearing backpacks. Are they perhaps due to embark on a safari? going to gym? or do they have to carry a laptop, just in case.
Well, I vote for the bumbag, it's reasonably compact and doesn't hurt your shoulder. It seems that we're becoming slaves to gadgets and even though the love of my life has a modest manbag which he rarely carries,  I guess he'd be happier with just the pants pocket.
And no, he doesn't have a comb in his sock.

Whatever

I played hookey today. I decided to join Rowland when he went out to do collections. It was really good, sitting in the car, driving around on a "work day". It's almost like meditation, you sit still and comfortable and allow your mind to wander, noticing things along the way.
Alongside the freeway, in a large grassy area is a pizza oven. It's been there for years, sitting, all alone, no advertising board near it. I often wonder, do the vagrants have Friday night pizza, is there some secret Italian Pizza Clan who come along at full moon and have pepperoni pizza?
whatever.
It's good to see all the renovations going on in and around Cape Town, old buildings being given a facelift, they must feel so good.
On the way out of town, walking along the shoulder of the highway towards us was a man pushing a wheel chair. The cushion still had that sitting indentation hhmmm. "So tell me Sir, where is your patient?"
Eish
We stopped off at Canal Walk, managed to find parking and even found time to glare at the 40 something woman and her two teenage daughters who had just parked the Merc in the "Elderly" parking bay. We don't even park there and we ARE elderly - or so they tell us.
Rushing through the centre I passed an underwear store - his and hers. In the window was a set for him, matching vest and briefs with a twirly design on the fabric. Seriously? Do you want your man to look like a 1920's wrestler?
whatever.
I've just been visited by friends, he is very ill but doing so well and she is ever strong and supportive. What a good way to end the working day and week, on a happy positive note.