In the past year or so, I’ve picked up not one, not two, but three pairs of sunglasses left behind in dugouts at fields where my old guy baseball team plays.
The last two have been totally usable, and I have in fact used them, but nothing all that special.
The first pair, though, were Ray-Bans. I am not, like, a sunglasses aficionado — I’ve always sort of laughed at people who spend a few hundred bucks on a pair of shades — but even I knew that the Ray-Bans were a pretty good find.
My daughter Pam noticed them on the way to our softball game Sunday evening. She likened stumbling onto a pair of free Ray-Bans to finding a Rolex or an iPod, and figured this particularly pair likely sold for around $400.
“You could probably take them to a second-hand store and sell them for a couple hundred bucks,” she said.
“Really? Like which store?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But don’t try to do that. If you don’t want them, just give them to me.”
“If I decide I don’t want them, I will.”
Pam then shared that when she first heard the brand Ray-Ban, she didn’t understand what she was hearing and thought it was “Rain Ban.”
Like, maybe, the official shades of Rain Man?
Anyway, here are the eyeglasses in question, followed by Catch of the Day, No. 31, a mid-1960s Wilson fielder’s glove so well-used and well-worn that about all I can make out on it is Triple Lock on the webbing: