Leave Your Fanny at Home

With only a few weeks left in 2007, the year will come to a close before my wife and I can go on vacation. Which is fine. Before this year, we’d been fortunate enough to go on at least one vacation together every year that we’ve been married, but lots of people don’t go on vacation every year (or any year) for a variety of reasons.

Because of our new responsibilities, when we do get away again we’ll probably head to a “family-friendly” destination. Our days of skirting common sense and jetting off to Las Vegas at a time when we’re both unemployed, as we did a few years ago, are probably over. But I got to thinking about that trip and it dawned on me that Vegas just might fit the bill after all.

Despite all the city’s efforts to convince you otherwise, it has become quite the family-friendly getaway lately. Sure, there’s still lots of people running around looking to leave their inhibitions in the cab, but these days they have to share time at the craps table with families who stretch nine wide, including grandma Gertrude and her sequin-covered cane. But it wasn’t the number of kids I counted that led me to this conclusion. It was the number of fanny packs.

This disturbingly popular accessory from the ‘80s has made a disturbingly popular re-emergence. It was everywhere. On the street, at the shows, in the casinos, in the cabs… ev-er-y-where. And it captured the fancy of all walks of life. Young, old, white, black, American, European, Asian and Spanish. Everyone had one. It was like seeing hats at the Kentucky Derby or flannel at Lillith Fair. Even the men wore them. That proved most disturbing.

I saw a guy wearing one despite the fact that his wife/girlfriend carried a purse. Another guy had one even though his wife/girlfriend had a purse and wore one herself. What’s the point of that? I have a hard enough time understanding why a guy would need one if his wife has a purse, but what does he have that won’t fit in his wife’s fanny pack too? At that point it’s just a fashion statement.

There’s nothing a guy carries that won’t fit in his pockets. Keys. Wallet. That’s it. That’s all he needs. Even during extenuating circumstances, like when his pockets have holes in them (not necessarily making the pants unwearable) and he needs at least one hand to hold his beer, his wife/girlfriend will have something that will hold his valuables. And believe me, I’m not trying to be sexist or insensitive by suggesting that women should have to carry around our essentials when we go out. I’m thinking of them and their potential embarrassment. My wife would strap a Ford Festiva to her back to avoid being seen with me walking down the street with a fanny pack.

Anyway, we saw whole families of fannies. One lady actually wore two - one facing the front, one facing the back. As if owning one was a status symbol. The only thing I saw that may have outnumbered them was the slot machines, but it was neck and neck. My point is that these aren’t the people doing shots at the roulette wheel at 4 a.m. The guy in the fanny pack is not walking into Caesars with a woman on each arm and making people wonder if he’s ever ordered a hit on anyone. And the fanny-pack wearers are probably not the target market of the guys on the sidewalk handing out pamphlets that advertise… well, let’s call it “companionship.”

So don’t let all those “What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas” commercials fool you. Pack up the kids and head to the gaudiest desert around. Hopefully what gets left in Vegas are all the awful zip-shut pouches that make me long for the days of Zubaz.

This is an updated version of the column that appears in the July 20, 2005 issue of Velocity magazine.