The Gallery Of Hidden Treasures

I think I was on a cruise ship when a woman nearby said to her friend, “My hair has been dyed so many times it would take an archaeologist to discover my real color.”

When he finishes, I’d like to introduce him to my desk. Remember that part just below this where I talked about buying a printer? Well, this planet does not have zero gravity, so the thing has to sit somewhere. Of all the places I looked at, only the top of my desk is feasible, as well as a natural place to set it down.

Here’s where we get to the archaeologist part. When I was clearing off sufficient space for my new baby, I discovered lots of neat things I forgot all about. A photo from 1999, a public-service announcement disc that is not to be used after 2007, a laminated newspaper clipping showing my brother in front of a huge snowbank in his shorts.

It’s not as if I’m hoarding all this old mail, but simply I put it down to take care of something more pressing. Then, like compost, it gradually sank down; like a sinking ship, it ended up on the ocean floor where the groundfeeders ate it, leaving nothing but nothing. In my case, I just didn’t have the groundfeeders to help me.

So now I’m picking it apart, seeing what’s worth saving (not a whole lot, really) and what’s suitable only for the wastebasket (most of it). One criterion will be anything written I look at and say, “What does that mean?” Anything with a “Reply by (before this date).” Then my desk and I can meet each other again.