Ten minutes into cleaning up (cleaning out?) my office, I knew it would result in a blog post. Maybe there is just something in the air because it seems like THIS GUY is also jettisoning some old baggage.
First, a little bit about my office. It really is more like a workshop. But I would chop off my own hands or something with anything resembling a tool, so I've put a desk out there, a computer, a DVD player and a TV.
And junk. Lots of damn junk. When we moved in, all the boxes of crap we didn't want to bring into the house went out into the workshop/office. I could have thrown that shit away in Oklahoma, but I thought it would be really clever to haul it all to Louisiana, let it sit around a few years and THEN throw it away. Because I'm an idiot, that's why.
I found a cool picture of my signing at a small book store in Oklahoma. It was when the UglyTown edition of Gun Monkeys first came out. I had long hair and was skinny. (Okay, not "skinny" but not the fatass I am today.)
I also found a stack of Ian Flemming paperbacks. My wife's. I've never read a Bond novel. I prefer the films because in the novels you have to hum the theme music yourself. I found copies of the French edition of The Pistol Poets. I never really caught on in France. I found a stack of 45 records. (Pet Shop Boys?) I threw them away to prove I am not a hoarder. I found a bunch of grad school books which I kept so I could put them on my shelf in my campus office when I became a big shot professor at a large university. (HAHAHAHAHA!)
I also found a very old, cheap journal that printed one of my poems. I read the poem. I then ripped up the journal into six thousand pieces, assuring it could never be reassembled.
People change. I can't imagine why I kept some of the papers I tossed out. I can't quite picture the person I used to be. I have no idea when I'll be like in ten years. I don't plan to spend too much time dwelling on it.
I do plan to spend more time in my office now. Man cave. Fort Gischler.