I Watched Someone Photograph Every Slide Without a Phone

At a conference, I watched someone photograph every slide by tapping their glasses. A new slide came up. They tapped the arm. The next slide came up. They tapped again. They never pulled out a phone. It was faster. It was less disruptive. There was no fumbling while the slide changed.

Those were Ray-Ban Meta glasses. Easy to file under toy. The use I saw is so plain you can miss it. Hands-free capture. One tap instead of the usual sequence: phone out, camera up, excuse me, phone away.

Buy the clear-lens version. Clear lenses are how you wear them indoors, and how you wear them anytime. They look like normal Ray-Bans, which is how they skip the awkward smart-glasses look. The clear-lens pair is the one built for indoor rooms.

I’m no product reviewer. I watched one person handle slides in a smarter way, and it’s specific enough to copy. If your week includes decks, get the clear-lens pair and let the tap be your camera. You walk out with the slides. Your phone stays in your pocket.

Sound small? Good. I started looking at everything else I carry with the same test. Does this remove a fumble, or is it just along for the ride?

What left my pockets when the car did

What are you carrying only because of one habit?

I don’t drive. I enter my building with my phone or a fob. Payment is my phone. Entry is my phone. Once that was true, I stopped carrying car keys. I stopped carrying house keys. On an ordinary day, my driver’s license stays home too. Car-free living sits upstream of all of this. It quietly eliminated half my pocket clutter. The objects lost their job, so they left.

What’s on me now is a short list. Phone. AirPods. A smart ring. A watch.

I still grab my wallet for the rare night out that needs an ID. Those nights are real. The wallet comes out for those nights and goes home after.

Dump what you carried today onto a table. Pick up each item and name the habit it supports. A key for a car. A metal key for a door your phone already opens. A card you already pay with from the phone. If you can drop the habit, drop the item with it. My carry got small because the life upstream got simpler. Do it in that order.

Pouches that cost zero dollars

My carry-on is basically a stack of free bags. Airlines hand out amenity toiletry kits in business and first class. I save them. One holds cables. One holds supplements. One holds the sharp and charging items.

I know. Very glamorous. The free zip bag from a flight is my organization system.

A pencil case does the same job. A toiletry bag you already own does the same job. Zero dollars.

Open the bag you took out today. Give every loose category a pouch of its own. Cables in one. Supplements in another. Sharp and charging items in a third. You pack faster when each thing has a home. The pouch you already own is the whole system. Use it tonight.

The backup that weighs nothing

AirPods are in my pocket every day. Brooks is all-in on his, and he still carries a wired backup: Apple EarPods, 3.5mm, plus a USB-C adapter. When the AirPods are dead, unpaired, or glitching mid-call, the wired pair just works. The extra weight is basically zero.

Have yours ever quit in the middle of a call you cared about? That’s the exact failure he packed for.

The idea is bigger than headphones. For anything you depend on daily, carry the cheap fallback so a dead battery never derails you. Keep the list short. Wired earbuds, Brooks’s version. A spare cable. A power bank.

I already carry the power bank. A MacBook Air, that bank, and one short cable get me through a 10-hour day out. The bank covers power. Brooks’s EarPods cover a dying call. If calls are your work, put his backup in the bag. Wired earbuds you already own will do. You forget they’re there until you need them.

One bag I don’t have to baby

Watch collectors keep a beater. One watch they can scratch and abuse without caring.

Same idea, different object. I use one low-key geometric Japanese tote as my do-anything bag. Bike commutes. Travel. Dirty environments. It doesn’t announce its value. If it gets dinged, I don’t stress. I’m fine if a thief gives it a look. That’s why I use it.

Unremarkable gear has been more practical for me than gear that shows off. I take the tote into the actual day.

What are you still babying? Pick one workhorse you’re allowed to abuse. Mine is the tote. Use yours on the bike commute, on a trip, and in a dirty environment. Let it get dinged.

Pick a side before you pack another cable

I pack like a minimalist. A single short USB-C-to-USB-C cable. With the MacBook Air and a power bank, that’s a 10-hour day. My kit assumes the only devices in trouble are mine.

Brooks packs with big dad energy. A small pouch, a Tom Bihn Snake Charmer, stuffed with Lightning, USB-C, and multi-tip cables, including an Anker multi-tip. He can rescue whoever is next to him when a device starts to die. He packed for that on purpose.

Which packer are you?

Your carry is either for you, or for you plus everyone around you. Both work. I chose the first. Brooks chose the second. Drift into both by accident and you carry my one cable plus his whole pouch.

If you pack for yourself, stop at one short USB-C cable and a power bank. If you pack for the people around you, get the Snake Charmer and put the Anker multi-tip in it, along with a Lightning cable. Then stop adding.

Tonight, empty your pockets onto a table. Leave behind the one item that only exists to support a habit you can drop.