Thursday, March 29, 2007

At the Folks'

I'm in Spring for the next 20 hours or so. I came in this afternoon, and tomorrow will be nabbing Jamie and Mel and heading back to S. Austin.

Of course I'm way off schedule and everyone else has headed off for Sleepytime Junction. I was tired until about 9:00, and then my brain's second shift showed up, energized for duty. I had tried to beat them into submission with a large dinner and some wine, but no go.

As many a-Leaguer knows, my folks live in the same house I moved into in high school. And, therefore, not just the house but certain streets, car washes, bridges and loose items laying around the house are marked with that soft glow that, when you think on it too hard, tosses you back 15 years into the past. The magnifying class on the computer table is an odd anachronism, once belonging to my grandparents and now sitting here. The same calculator we bought when I was in high school, and it still works. Easter decorations I made with my own hands when I was in fifth grade.

And, of course, the notebooks of bad, bad maudlin poetry and prose that I'd hung on to at some point when I was ordered to clean out my old room. In reviewing my work, I was a rotten kid, I can tell you that much. Poor me. Lots of talk of anguish and pain, which sounds about right for the time. Drama kids.

At some point in the not-too-distant future my folks will sell this house, and it leaves me in an interesting pickle. I do not want this stuff crowding my house anymore than they want it moving with them to whatever version of Del Boca Vista Phase II in which they decide to land. When these things go to the dump, this external RAM I've been keeping of my life is going to go, too. I guess that's the nature of getting older.

These days when I come back, I don't mind if synapses fire that haven't seen a spark in years. There was a time when I found that almost threatening, but these days... there's a lot of water under the bridge, I suppose.

We'll be heading back tomorrow evening, I think. So we'll have tomorrow to sift through some of this stuff.

I might even venture into the garage attic and see if I can find my Matchbox cars.


Anonymous said...

Post the poetry.

The League said...

I think I share plenty of shame here at The League of Melbotis. I think the poetry is best left to the imagination.

Anonymous said...

Post the poetry, or I'll die.

Anonymous said...

Anonymous, why so melodramatic?

For the record, I vote that you post the poetry as well. I'd reciprocate, but, sadly, all of my bad teenage poetry is MIA.

J.S. said...

I can see why you don't want to take that stuff back to Austin with you. After all, who wants a bunch of toys and comic books cluttering up their house....

Michael Corley said...

I certianly hope you have a small, but impressive collection of role playing manuals. Or at least character sheet. D20 forever!

Anonymous said...

Post the poetry, for posterity.

The League said...

Alas, I left town with no poetry in hand. And my poetry may actually be the one thing I'm too embrassed to actually post. So, don't hold your breath.

For the record, I've already taken most of the stuff I want from Spring. And, yes, it may seem silly the whole "ha ha... you own toys and comics so you must fill your house with other useless junk"... but our house is not of infinite size. It's a delicate balance.

As per role-playing game stuff... I'm not sure how much of that is still around. I know it's not in my room. maybe some stuff from when I had a copy of the Marvel RPG, but the rest seems to have gone AWOL when my mom turned my room into a museum of her teaching stuff.