Memor-Elayne

Today's self-appointed task, which roped in Robin of course, was going through the boxes marked "Comic Convention Stuff" that had stood in our loft from when we moved in to a couple months ago. I was surprised to find it wasn't "stuff what we used to take to conventions" at all, but rather "collections of convention programs, comics, cards, and other mementos." Since I honestly don't recall doing most of the stuff I did then, and the programs themselves didn't aid my memory, into the trash they went. The two now-empty boxes will house all the greeting cards I've received (two other recovered boxes are also full of cards, I've saved them since I was a kid), and after I retire I'll go through them again to see if they spark memories better than convention programs. One thing I seem to have picked up in the post-COVID era, besides my desire to avoid crowds which means no more major comic cons for me, is that I just don't feel like hanging on to things from past lives if they don't enrich my present. I'm not quite at Kondo level, but at the same time I can't help but remember my college buddy Bill-Dale Marcinko, who died way too young due to a fire in his abode which the firefighters couldn't vanquish because they were unable to get past all his papers and zines and comics and other collections with which he couldn't part. His memory is not just a blessing but an object lesson. We'll see how well I've learnt it.