Cleaning Out My Closet

I had occasion over the weekend to clean out some of my closet. I was looking for something, and ventured into my bedroom closet, where I have boxes of stuff that have been untouched for years. I found things I had no idea I had anymore. Of course, I didn't find what I was looking for.

Since the box I removed fell apart, I decided to go through it and chuck stuff I didn't need. A lot of it was a stack of Barely Legal magazines. I kept the X-Files comic books and the New York Times from the day after Mark McGwire broke Roger Maris' record.

I also through out, without too much thought, journals I kept. From the age of seventeen until just a few years ago I dutifully wrote down my adventures in spiral-bound notebooks. Most of it is pretty mundane stuff. I quit doing it because I was going through a bad stretch and I was tired of detailing it. I suppose what I have done is a disaster for any future biographers of me (although, at this age, unless I shoot the president no will be needing to write such a tome), but I've found that I don't particularly care to look back at what my state of mind was during the past. For the most part I was incredibly naive. I did, though, have much better handwriting than I do now.

One of these days I've got to get a storage locker so I can take all the videotapes out of my house. I don't want to throw them away, not just yet, and they take up a lot of space.