Monday, April 06, 2009

Something Old, Something New

I don't know if I'm having a midlife crisis or if the economy has me convinced that I cannot yearn for anything available in a big box store, but I am suddenly drawn to other people's old junk. I'm developing nostalgia for a time period I don't remember, or, for that matter, never lived. Sadly, though, I'm finding that I'm not well suited to a bygone era.

Take my newly-acquired Royal HH typewriter (pictured above). This piece of dusty machinery was love at first sight. (Thanks to Craigslist.) I logged on, I saw, I bought. This--this--would surely turn me into poet or at least serve as a conduit for evening chats with Ernest Hemingway. Things haven't turned out to be quite as romantic as I'd hoped. First, Ernest seems to be incomunicato. Second, I've spent a great deal of time clacking my name, wishing I had something more substantial to say. Talk about writer's block. Try spilling your soul onto a blank piece of paper, using a machine that (1) betrays the hesitancy in your strokes by leaving mere ghosts of letters on the page and (2) knows no forgiveness. "Delete" is for cowards. "Tab release"? Now that's serious.

Which is why I return to the quiet tip tap of my computer keyboard. I can say anything I want. And then I can delete it. My self-esteem thrives on such artificial power.

In any event, my recent journey into antique shops, online vintage listings, and other antiquities has resulted in a plethora of tales to tell. In the coming days, please stay tuned for the adventures of Zobie Self, whose name was stamped on the inside of a vintage copy of Crime and Punishment that I bought and whom I have cyber-stalked. In the meantime, something old and something new:

Alex has taken an interest in building towers with wooden blocks, which, in my current nostalgic crisis, makes me extremely happy because there is something inherently retro about wooden blocks. Sadly, Alex spends more time with neon-colored platic toys.

Our darling Alex has found a way to make an old-fashioned oatmeal breakfast more efficient. I still use a spoon, which is apparently outdated.

This old picture of my father demystifies the origins of Alex's pot belly and squishycheeks (yes, all one word).

Ah, sisters. So much shared blood. So much rivalry. I'm on the right.

1 comment:

  1. I love Alex's froggy pajamas--Luke has them too. I'm a fellow Craig's List fan too. Where else can you find someone who will pay you to help declutter your house? I find selling my stuff rather therapeutic. In this economy, I guess I should be glad of that.