Keys

Keys. There’s a porcelain bowl sitting on the table by the front door and it’s filled with keys. There are keys to the car, spare keys for the condo, and those for various properties I have access to. Then there are keys for the bikes. Even these are not straightforward but are on rings of various types and hold an array for disk locks, cable locks, U-shaped locks, and heavy padlocks. They are even a few for luggage. It’s really not so bad. At least it wasn’t until I decided to repair a broken one.

The plastic bow on one of my Kryptonite keys had broken and left me with just the steel blade. I knew that I had other Kryptonite keys and could, with a little modification, fit the blade into a new bow. Opening up the wooden box containing my collection of unused keys I came face-to-face with my past. I think the key on a chain with a fob depicting a favorite restaurant in Italy fits the lock on my former father-in-law’s apartmentinno in Venice. The circular one with the neon yellow bow was used for a long-lost disk lock on the since-sold Sportster. This one has a green plastic insert that was an important indicator code for something, but I’ve forgotten what. There are quite a few sets of identical keys connected together in pairs and triplets on cheap split rings. They must be important. I have those that slide into locks with makers like The Chicago Lock Company, Taylor, Master, and American U.S.A. – although I suspect I know what this last one fits. There are those that are vaguely familiar and obviously fit some piece of gear that I’ve reviewed in the past and might still have stored. If I throw them away I’ll regret it later. The Craftsman key obviously goes to a tool chest, or at least a lock once used before I switched them so my stacked cabinets would be keyed alike. This one is obviously for a bicycle lock. I’m now left me with a small pile that could be anything. Except this one: this is the key to the Ducati ST4 that was stolen in Modena. It was a factory bike that was loaned to me and I keep it as a reminder of a time and place, that not all journeys have a fairytale ending, and that simply locking a front fork is not sufficient to secure a motorcycle from theft. Keys—and locks—have a purpose.

It seems that we live in a society where theft is common and security a necessity. Less than a week ago my communal garage was pillaged and several sets of automotive tires stolen. The bikes were not touched, but now they’re cable locked together and disk locks have been fitted. Which is what prompted me to sort through my keys in the first place.

I’ve found some old keys and fitted my blade to a fancy bow with an integrated LED light. It’s now on one of my primary key chains. This wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t realize that sitting on a shelf in my storage locker is a large peanutbutter jar that’s three-quarter full of keys. I only ask that you don’t suggest that I switch to combination locks: I’m having enough trouble remembering all my computer passwords.