There once was a boy named Travis.
He lived a life so lavish.
He spent big dollars
On things like dog collars,
On tech toys, trucks, and crab trawlers.
He fell in love with a messenger bag.
But, oh how it caused his shoulders to sag.
Though it caused him great pain,
He still was quite vain,
And wore it until his poor neck strained.
Into the hospital Travis went,
For oh how his neck was quite bent.
The doctor, he scolded.
His neck was remolded,
And at home the messenger bag was refolded.
The bag, its days were then numbered.
For it caused its owner to lumber.
Silly Travis did not bike,
And though the messenger he did like,
He’d need something more suited for hikes.
Dear Travis returned, then, to home,
To a bag with which he would no longer roam.
A backpack from here on,
The messenger bag gone,
Sold to Tim Tee for a song.
This poem is based on a true story. Travis is a coworker of mine who was hospitalized for horrible neck pain and immobility from the over-use of his messenger bag, which he’d slung (as we all do) over his neck and shoulder. The doctor informed him that messenger bags are to be used when biking, and when biking, the bag puts the majority of the load on our backs, rather than on our neck and shoulders. I sent Travis this poem over email to cheer him up.
Why is there a picture of a giraffe? The real question is, why not a picture of a giraffe?