the great purge of '06
in preparation for starting a new segment of my life, i had to do a bit of cleansing. trampling on some old demons, if you will.
since college, i’ve carried around this foot locker that initially doubled as a practical storage compartment and tv stand. but the days of stuffing my paltry material possessions in a box have long since faded, and the foot locker is now nothing more than a glorified memory box, weighing in at about 50lbs.
over the years, i’ve managed to accumulate trinkets, polaroids, ticket stubs, wristbands, playbills, boarding passes, business cards, lanyards, etc.
some of the more amusing finds: – a chocolate sucker in the shape of a vagina – a “i heart my piercer” bumper sticker – john malkovich’s head – the ponytail from a boy who chopped his hair off for a play
what did i keep? – letters, even from those i have lost all contact with – a single concert ticket stub from radiohead’s performance in hutchinson park here in chicago a few years back – diplomas and awards from high school and college – my ponytail
perhaps i should have kept the more comical things, but i had to make a decision: the sap versus the frivolous. and believe it or not, the former won out. and that rarely happens.
the truth is, though a melancholy realization, none of the contents seem vital to everyday life anymore, if they ever did. if someone were to ask me what i would take with me if i were stranded on a deserted island, i certainly wouldn’t respond with my collection of movie ticket stubs. and birthday cards from when i turned 21, though purposeful in nostalgia, wouldn’t provide enough shade from the relentless tropical sun.
obviously, i cherish the memories associated with all these items, and discarding them will make me forget, perhaps regrettably. but even after looking through everything, i couldn’t jog my brain in some cases. and i think that saddened me more than actually seeing the pile of “to throw away” grow bigger and bigger.
- * *
a running theme i noticed in some notes from my early college years, then those immediately following, was that i wasn’t as happy as i could have been. i know i experienced your garden variety of feelings of ill-content, angst and restlessness, especially upon my return from europe in early ’99. i felt grounded for a few years thereafter, money issues stifling the usage of my passport.
issues of loves lost, loves unreturned were always persisting, but regardless of so many tears shed over one boy or another, any remnants i had of these individuals surprisingly didn’t find their fate in the trash.
and of course the ever-popular “what the hell am i going to do with the rest of my life” dilemma poked its wayward head during my drinking binges in my early twenties.
i guess i can rest easier these days knowing that my family, though 300 miles away, is and always will be an integral part of my life. my parents are done with raising me, but they’ll never be done with listening.
the friends i have now are prevalent, my dog is constantly giving me reason to smile, and my job doesn’t suck.
but above all, i will be sharing an apartment, my life, with someone i love. and that in and of itself pretty much negates any past disenchantments i may have had.
listening to “fair” by remy zero.