Wednesday, May 11, 2011


I was never really into keepsakes, mementos, or scrap-booking. Still not. Other folks post Christmas cards on their door or over the mantle; I just keep them in a pile until February when it's socially acceptable to dispose of them, like receipts you don't need to keep anymore. Pictures? I'm not really a shutterbug. I'll take a few pictures now and then, but most of the content on my flickr account is from the first year or two after I had just gotten a new camera.

Sometimes I'll save a ticket stub or program from some memorable event, but a year or two later, when I go into a de-cluttering frenzy, they get tossed without a second thought. (By the way, heavenly bodies have to line up in rare ways for me to go into de-clutter mode.)

But there is some things I keep, and will still keep in a box in a drawer somewhere: Letters from my Grandfather. Granddaddy was a traveling minister for years, eventually going into prison ministry. An old Brittish gentleman, he always had a way with words. Dry wit. Brisk sarcasm, but without the acidic snark that typically comes bundled with it nowadays. While doing a recent purge of photos, paperwork, and other documents that I don't want kept around, I came across them again, and read some of the last ones he wrote to me before he died in 2008. Loved the guy.

If you sent me a picture or letter more than two years ago, It probably isn't with me anymore. Please don't take it personally, but if don't look at it or read it for that period of time it's probably not a lot of use to me. But I still have correspondence from Granddaddy from when I was about twelve. That's not going anywhere.

I was going to end this with a video of a sentimental song, something like "Cats in the Cradle" or some nonsense, but those of you who know me well, knows that I have to reverse the touchy-feely vibe that I've been building up. So instead, here's the Raul's Wild Kingdom segment from UHF. Enjoy!

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