Snogo in the Wild

Hey Fam,

This month’s Snogo In The Wild is about the connections we form with our cherished possessions, and how those things can pass in and out of our lives.

It’s got me thinking: Do our things belong to us, or do we belong to our things? And how much should we indulge in wonder?

Dear Snogo,

I’m a big fan of Snogo products and I also have a habit of losing them. I travel a lot, and I’m meticulous about packing— noting which packing cube in which bag my precious items are going in, and which other precious items are going to be their travel mates.

In 2023, I visited some friends in Vancouver. When I got back home to San Francisco, I realized I couldn’t find my Snogo gear. (An INCOGNITO with a necklace.) I was going to Amsterdam soon for grad school and knew I was going to need a club buddy, so I ordered another Snogo straw and took that new one with me to Amsterdam.

As soon as my flight landed in Amsterdam, I got a text from my Vancouver pals. Guess what they found? My INCOGNITO and necklace, as well as a rogue bathing suit that had ended up in the depths of the fold-out couch in the guest room I’d been staying in. They told me they’d mail my INCOGNITO and necklace to my place in San Francisco – awesome – but I had to write off the swimsuit. It’s not like it did anything to anyone, but for some reason we all, especially me, took the view that my swimshorts themselves were responsible for getting buried in the fold-out and deserved to be banished from our lives.

ANYWAYS, I made good use of my new Snogo straw in Amsterdam, but when it came time to take the trip home, I couldn’t find it anywhere. Since I was staying with relatives, I scoured the guest room I was staying in until I was sure it wasn’t there and that my cousins wouldn’t find it after I’d left. I didn’t know where it was, but I was at least sure that it wasn’t in that room.

I returned home to San Francisco, and there I reunited with my original INCOGNITO.

But that’s not it.

Three months later, I returned to Amsterdam to resume school, back to stay at the same relatives’ house in the same guest room. But then as I started to get settled, I realized I forgot to pack my INCOGNITO. Not again! After all that!? I was so mad at myself for leaving my club buddy at home 5,000 miles away.

Then, about a week later, I was stripping my bed when I heard a metallic pinging on the floor. Errant euro coins, probably. I went to my hands and knees to look under the bed, and I did see something metal glinting at me—but it was something far better than a few euro— it was my newer Snogo straw!

In the end, I finished school and returned home to San Francisco where my INCOGNITO and necklace had been waiting to be united with me and MY new Snogo straw.

So while I did lose them, I also always found them, and was actually never without. Meant to be.

—Ajax, San Francisco

Ajax sounds like a pen name to me. Or a Nom de Plume if we’re being French about it. And that is all good, Ajax— you are welcome to be incognito in the Snogo fam, and we appreciate you sharing your story.

Sometimes we do hear about Snogos and their owners getting separated, but the funny thing is, these stories are usually about a straw being misplaced and found, rarely lost for good. I’ll admit, I’m open-minded to a little bit of woo-woo. Not a lot. A little bit. And over the years that I’ve been on this Snogo journey, I can’t help but think sometimes that these devices aren’t mere inanimate objects, but that they have an energy of their own.

I wonder if there’s anymore to Ajax’s story that we could do some playful dot-connecting with… Was his path ever altered by the misplacing or finding of one of his Snogos? I don’t want to steer fully into Toy Story territory and suggest that our belongings have agency in our lives— but it is amusing to wonder about.

Who remembers that English garden gnome news story from the 80s? This lawn decoration went missing from a lady’s yard, then weeks later she started receiving pictures in the mail of her garden gnome on vacation and posing in front of foreign landmarks. 99.999% chance it was someone’s idea of a joke, but nonetheless, there was always the very silly and fun speculation that the gnome could be traveling on its own.

As adults, how much wonder should we allow ourselves? I don’t know, but I do know it seems wrong to shut out fun, especially when it’s only in the form of a few inspiring thoughts.

Big Love,
AY

PS… Share your story and if we use it for a SITW, we’ll gift you a Snogo straw so you have another one to lose and find.