The great treasure test
This need to be engraved, on a big stone. Right beside a tombstone, if your want.
One man’s treasure is another man’s trash.
Let’s work from there. Today, one of my storage boxes became the object of an intense inventory. I had forgotten how much arcane knowledge it takes to get through a day on the life. My life, at least. We were deciding if objects from the past were to be allowed to continue taking up space in our garage. Vault. Whatever. And the connection has a lot of “unobtanium”. I did my best to defend my cause, but I was made to admit that we could not keep everything.
Among the object, of course, were old cables and connectors. I was particularly taken by what looked like a dagger, if you were given to defending your tin of soda from pirates. In reality, a letter opener. I had forgotten just how many letters we all received on a regular basis. A joke. I was not someone with a lot of fan mail, if memory serves me well.
There were some old photos. Need to call in family and see if anyone else remembers those faces from a foggy past. Also, how did we exist before Radio Shack. Tiny pieces, still in their original packages. A potentiometer. Gone. Also, no hidden treasure, in my treasure chest.
The rule, apparently, is that if you haven’t needed something for so long that you no longer remember it, you should let it go. Guess you got me, with that rule.
