(Blogger’s Note: I posted this blog several months ago, before I joined WordPress. Since I had this harrowing experience again recently I thought a re-post was in order. Most of you haven’t read it, but for those who did, you may note it has been revised quite a bit. Still rings true though.)

In a startling announcement, the scientific community has revealed that there are possibly billions more black holes than ever before imagined. For those of you who still aren’t sure what a black hole is; consider these definitions from Encarta dictionary:

1. object in space: an area in space with such a strong gravitational pull that no matter or energy can escape from it. Black holes are believed to form when stars collapse in on themselves.

2. place where things get lost: a place or thing into which objects disappear and are not expected to be seen again.

It is this latter definition that scientists lean on when referring to their recent discovery. When asked by reporters if they had given a name to this newly disclosed phenomenon the committee replied: “Yes, we call it purses.” Somewhat confused, reporters queried the scientists further to explain this rarely used technical term. The spokesman, looking rather incredulous, elaborated saying, “pocketbooks, handbags, shoulder bags… call them what you want!”

Some recently discovered black holes from a galaxy not so far, far away.

That’s right, verifying what most men have long suspected, common purses are now officially a part of the scientific lexicon of  the unexplainable. It comes as no surprise to most husbands that even the most erudite among us cannot completely grasp the chaos that is these seemingly indispensable devices. For the most part, we have been very content to not know. The mystery surrounding the contents of purses, while occasionally piquing our curiosity, is at the same time threatening and best left unexplored.

Are you sure this is safe, dear?

Who among us hasn’t frozen at the command “check my purse, I’m sure it’s in there.” Aside from the frustration of trying to find something amid the carnage, we all imagine being skewered by some grooming device with sharp points.

"Tha..a..a..that's al..al..alright dear. I'll w..a..a..wait til you...you.. you are out of the sh..sh..shower for the ch..ch..checkbook.

And what if there is a varmint living in the bottom of the bag? With the daily accumulation of so many articles, who knows what lurks in the abyss?

Honey, something just crawled out of your purse. Should I feed it?

But why now, after centuries of the scientific community ignoring this rather mundane item, has it become such a wonderment? Simple. The cellphone. It’s only since the advent of the cellphone that the comparison to a black hole has taken on such significance. A cellphone call  moves her to a higher state of consciousness and life is suspended as the melodious ring beckons.

"You are now under my spell and will be obedient to my ringtone."

Here’s the scenario: the cellphone rings; she hears it; she knows it is in the purse. Will she find it in time? (Hint: that was a rhetorical question.) I would rate the odds at 1000 to 1 that it will be a missed call. Not only will the phone not be answered in time, but it probably won’t be found at all. The inevitable search is on. It’s such a pathetic sight because almost every new purse now has a specially designed pocket just for the cellphone. But somehow it just doesn’t seem to want to live in there.

Looking for me? (Snideley Whiplash's alter ego)

While this discovery has not changed this ritual of pocketbook combat and it will invariably continue down through the ages, it gives some comfort to know that science has at least given it credence. That gives me validation for the next time I am asked to search my wife’s purse, or as I like to refer to it, the “Event Horizon.”

A picture of my wife's purse, taken just moments ago.

By the way, has anyone seen my wallet?