Thursday, May 28, 2009


I took a look through my filing cabinets tonight. And let me tell you, it freaked me out.

There could well be five thousand pounds of unfinished, unremarkable, and terribly embarrassing prose and poetry in these folders, bundles and boxes. (Tell me: do they even make those canary yellow newsprint pads any more?) There are several hundred pounds of handwritten stuff and tons of brittle, twenty-pound bond paper, imprinted with ink from ancient typewriters (both manual and electric); stuff composed on word-processors; and newer offerings printed from computers.

I've never felt older and less vital than I do right at this second.

The guy that wrote that stuff is long dead. Opening those vaults was a big mistake.

Hey buddy... got a match?


Woozie said...

As a matter of fact, they do still make and sell canary yellow newsprint pads. Though nowadays it's more often canary yellow regular lined paper. My parents have tens of them, sitting in a desk, unused. Why they bought a bulk pack of something they never use is beyond me.

I have a purple bic.

unokhan said...

keep the literary map of your life -- you can't retrace the steps to get where you were, but you may want to see again what paths brought you to where you are.

DoctorBoogaloo said...

Woozie: I've got a couple of Bic Ultra Round Stic Grips that I stole from my son. I love my old Parker; but I can buy a bag of Bics for the price of a Parker refill.

Uno: You always manage to say a mouthful in just a few words. (Cancel the match.)

unokhan said...