Editor’s Note: The opinions and attitudes expressed by the author are those of the author and not necessarily of the publication’s editorial board. This segment is part of a series of opinions by Alex Carter entitled “Danger Zone.” There may not be any real or imminent danger, nor is clicking on this story necessarily going to result in some harm to you or your computer. However, a hardhat and safety goggles are recommended.

Lunchboxes get an undeserved bad reputation. But let there be no doubt, the lunchbox has changed the game forever.

Admittedly, I have taken flak for being a lunchbox carrier throughout high school. Even my own family sometimes ridicules me for my almost indecent attachment to my giant, vibrant, red lunchbox.

It’s hard for me to see why people consider lunchboxes uncool, since I am such a fan, but I’ll do my best to be fair to those with opposing viewpoints. It seems to me that people find them cumbersome to carry around all day. Another factor could be that lunchboxes are considered juvenile — something that elementary school children use. Maybe people prefer buying food at Town & Country, or hiding their food in their backpacks until lunch.

But let’s be real here. Batman is the best superhero, no debate there. Batman is awesome because of his utility belt, because it keeps him prepared for every situation. Who else can whip out a bat-cable and scale a bat wall on a moment’s notice? The lunchbox is the utility belt of the non-utility belt-carrying highschooler. I guarantee you. When Bruce Wayne was in high school, he carried a lunchbox. I will bet money on that.

There is nothing more useful than having a giant box to put stuff in at any time of day — rain, sleet, or snow. Some common stuff you might find in my lunchbox at any given time (in order, from most to least common) includes pens, pencils, broken pencils, notepads, money, flip flops, spare clothing, injured animals and books. 

Need I say more?

And I haven’t even gotten to the food part yet.

Food is key. Especially for hungry people. My experience may be uncommon, but I find that I typically get hungry faster than I can physically consume food. Seriously. It is not possible for me to eat enough food. For those of you who are math-oriented, you might say that the slope of hunger growth is bigger than the slope of eating speed.

Needless to say, this requires that I eat throughout the day to avoid starvation. This is where the lunchbox comes into play. Look, I’m a fan of Lulu’s burritos and Sushi House chicken bowls and CVS junk food, but those places are too far away when you need them. No one in his or her right mind would run to Lulu’s in the middle of first period Econ. Also, I recently discovered that Lulu’s is closed in the middle of first period Econ.

Lunchboxes, especially obscenely large ones, help solve this food storage conundrum. I like to think that I appreciate my lunchbox as much as people in a desert appreciate water, or as much as lost sailors appreciate land; so, a lot. The lunchbox is a gift. If I could, I would shake the hand of the inventor of the lunchbox. A quick Googling indicates that the invention of the lunchbox is credited to the Aladdin Company in 1950. Thanks to this company which shares its name with a Disney movie, I can now feed whenever I please.

For those of you who are convinced of the merits of the ‘box, I have three nuggets of advice. 

First, do no harm with your lunchbox. There is nothing a teacher appreciates more than a fizzy soda exploding onto their carpet. (That was sarcasm). Teachers do not appreciate fizzy sodas exploding onto their carpets.

Second, prepare carefully. It takes some time to determine the ideal combination of Costco bulk food (which is the only way to stock a lunchbox). Obviously, preference varies from person to person, from day to day. My ideal lunch would be apples, between one and three microwaved burritos and a thermos of leftovers.

Finally, pack twice as much on emergency drill days. I won’t lie to you, people appreciate impromptu picnics on the football field.

So that’s that. Lunchboxes are sweet. How dare you non-lunchbox carriers compare the lunchbox to the rolling backpack. Those two things are not even the same thing.

All righty, onward and upward.