Ever feel like you're having one of those "movie moments"?
I had one of those yesterday.
While valiantly searching for some guitar cords at the old and rather abandoned farmstead, in a dusty little room next to what was once my Aerial Lair, I found a photo album (ah, the days before Flickr....) lying on the floor. Inside was a pictorial treasure trove of The Beast ala 1960's. It's a strange thing to see just how much a person doesn't change in forty-odd years.
Next to said album was a tipped over drawer. A binder dated 1964 is perhaps the earliest evidence that indeed, my warped sense of humor didn't just come out of nowhere. Fondly titled "Mad Scientist Club" The Beast listed himself as President, with the names of three lesser peons down below. The mission statement was impressively juvenile. (Something to the effect of "We will look in people's windows, etc. etc.) Ah, the ambitions of one eight year old during the height of the Hippie Generation.
There were other knickknacks and other goodies to be had from what were probably his teenage years, but it was the initial find that sparked the internal movie music and panoramic camera view.
Heh. Anyway, it was a cool moment.
One should appreciate these dusty nostalgic finds while one can. Pretty soon all of life's memories will be damned to a cold, stale hard drive.
......What is that phrase again?
*smirk*
Protest Capitalism
Thursday, June 05, 2008
The Compound, as I may or may not have mentioned, is up for sale. Regarding that status, the house was "shown" again today, and the results seem promising.
An offer, perhaps?
I must say, this turn of events comes a little bittersweet, as recently the house and all it's wacky quirks have started to grow on me. Plus, the idea of having to move all my crap again kinda makes my inner masochist squeal with fiendish delight.
All this isn't really a complain, it's more of a surprised realization that sometimes even I can fail to see the things I have right in front of me, and it takes the impending loss to start belatedly appreciating them.
(Insert obligatory catchphrase here)
An offer, perhaps?
I must say, this turn of events comes a little bittersweet, as recently the house and all it's wacky quirks have started to grow on me. Plus, the idea of having to move all my crap again kinda makes my inner masochist squeal with fiendish delight.
All this isn't really a complain, it's more of a surprised realization that sometimes even I can fail to see the things I have right in front of me, and it takes the impending loss to start belatedly appreciating them.
(Insert obligatory catchphrase here)
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