It’s funny how you can live decades with something completely absurd, but never realize the absurdity. Some time in the early 1990s, I ended up with a Waldo keychain. Maybe I found it at recess, maybe I won it in a jump roping contest, or maybe the mystery is part of the charm. This thing has melted in my backpack, survived moves spanning two decades, and has been doing a great job holding my spare keys ever since.
It’s always baffled me as to why Waldo posed in swim gear for this keychain. Just where was he trying to hide? I suppose the advantage of having a Waldo keychain is the excitement of finding Waldo along with your lost keys. “There’s Waldo!! … and my keys.”
