Wednesday, August 30, 2006

The accumulation of crap

As I sit at my desk I look at the accumulation of stuff all around me. There's the 1960 bubble gum cards of WWII that aren't really worth too much $$ but I can't seem to get rid of; there's the ticket stubs from games, concerts and events I've been to this year; there's my first puppy dog Shep's old dog tags, I loved that dog; magazines, books, plaques and awards; an old picture, a hard drive clock that doesn't keep the right time but is cool to look at.

Why do we keep this stuff? Each item I mentioned holds a memory for me. Those cards were given to me by my uncle when I was 6, the memories of the events live on thru that silly ticket stub, the pictures, the clock, it's all about the memories really. Why do we need to keep them? Aren't these memories in our mind's eye? Are they safe there? If I can walk from my home office to the kitchen and forget in the 5 seconds it took to make the trip, why I'm in the kitchen then how can I throw this stuff away? Obviously my mind is not fully functioning. I can't remember something from 5 seconds ago, how will I remember that Melissa Etheridge concert and where I sat? How will the memories be safe?

Perhaps the memories of these special events take up a more secure spot in our brain. Perhaps they are stored somewhere different than the reason I went to the kitchen. I don't know, I'm sure there is some National Geographic magazine article that will tell me, but I can't remember which year it was. hehe

Perhaps that is what scrapbooking is all about.......although how will I put the clock in the album? ah shit, I don't really need the clock I guess. I can't remember the point of this blog now, so I'll leave it at that......

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I'm going to try this again...hopefully I can really comment this time. I think memories become dearer to us when we lose some of them. For instance, my father has been dead what, 22 years now? I have to struggle to remember what he looks like sometimes. But I can remember how happy I was sitting on his lap when he let me drive the boat across a huge lake. Memories make up who we are, what we are, and what people take of us with them. Whatever they are, whyever they are, they are important to someone. So those little souvenirs of your memories are souveniers of your life. Of you. That's why dahlink, they are so important. All this from a blonde...oye...

--K