One's Stuff

It's really quite amazing the variety of stuff one can accumulate over the years. I've been thinking about that lately as I go through the condo room by room, drawer by drawer, and decide what goes with me to Florida, what stays in New Hampshire for a June pick up, what goes with the auction guy, and what gets thrown out. Sometimes the decisions are not as easy as you might think.

For example, what should I do with the three homemade score sheets from three different Celtics games circa 1960? I found them in a little-used drawer today and marveled at the names and the memories they evoked. Here's a little trip down memory lane for you old time NBA fans: Hal Greer, Al Bianchi, Dick Barnett, Dolph Schayes, Paul Arizin...not to mention Celtics like Gene Guerillia, Frank Ramsey, and Jim Luscotoff. I used to listen to the old Celtics' broadcasts on radio (WHDH) and keep score in bed using my own system of circles and x's and lines. Just looking at those surprisingly well-preserved pieces of 50-year-old notebook paper, I can hear Johnny Most's ridiculous growl and I can see Bill Russell's graceful leap as he plucks yet another rebound from the grasp of the hated Wilt the Stilt. These papers are definitely going with me. They are unassailable proof that there once was a time in my life when the Celts' winning or losing was all I really had to worry about.

In the same drawer were three Masterlock combination locks, the three-number codes long since forgotten. What did I own of such value that necessitated the purchase of these anti-theft devices? Why did I need three of them? Did I forget the combination to the first one which necessitated buying a second one? Then did I forget the combination to the second one which necessitated buying a third one? How long did this process take? Is there a locker somewhere in the greater Boston area which contains all the "valuable" possessions that these three locks were supposed to protect? Now that I think of it, I've never been robbed of anything, ever. The only significant financial loss I've ever suffered has been the cost of three Masterlock combination locks. Out they go!

Here's a snow-day calling list from Hingham's South Junior High School, circa 1980. I wonder how many of these phone numbers are still valid? (If you feel like it, say that last sentence like Andy Rooney.) One of the few drawbacks to being a retired teacher is you lose the thrill and drama associated with snow days. Basically, when you're retired, every day is a snow day. It just doesn't have the same juice. Anyway, I'm moving to the Florida panhandle. What do they know about snow days? Out goes the Hingham calling list.

In the bottom of another drawer I find a tool. Normally, I would keep any tool I happen to find on the odd chance that one day I will become handy; however, this tool is a mystery tool with no obvious purpose. It is plastic, about the size of a fork with a kind of notch on one end and a curvy piece on the other end. There must have been a time in my life when I used this tool to accomplish something, or, more likely, when I tried to use this tool, got frustrated, and stuck it in the bottom of this drawer. I can only assume that whatever didn't get fixed didn't really have to get fixed...

...or, its unrepaired remains lie in the bottom of some other drawer, yet to be discovered.

The tool is out and whatever was broken will be out too if I ever find it.

Finally, here is a day planner from several years ago. Most of the spaces are blank. The few that are filled in have nothing more than a tee time noted. I could keep this and hope that a year is soon coming which matches up with the days and dates of this book. Of course a leap year may pop up unexpectedly which will make waiting for the years to match interminable. I think I will just toss this planner and continue with my time-tested strategy of never having a day that necessitates the use of a day planner.

So much stuff.

Love to all,
J