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Apr. 29, 2005 All my collections are collecting dust. I always start collections with an enthusiasm matched only by competitors on the “Apprentice.” I started several years ago to collect walking canes. I now have three. Soon after that, I began collecting old bottles. I have six. Next came my fascination with deck prisms; I have two. I decided I liked old lanterns. I counted four, two that work. The list goes on: 4 glass insulators, 1 bottle of marbles, 27 ink pens, 1 vintage pop bottle, 1 wooden barrel, and a partridge in a pear tree. The collection I am proudest of is 723 unpublished poems in the second drawer of my file cabinet. My collection of unpublished books isn’t too shabby either, 5. I’ve got one old rifle and a scope that doesn’t fit it; two Indiana University mugs, five dirty oil filters I haven’t taken for disposal, and 23 paint buckets containing dried or gummy paint. I have two old computer monitors, three broken keyboards, and two cheap speaker sets. My prize collection of 218 music cassettes lies in a rotting cardboard box in our garage. Yes, to say I am a collector would be a gross understatement. My latest endeavor is gadgets. I have a Galileo thermometer (a real glass one), a nice ship’s compass, and a brass hourglass. Among some other gadgets: 6 battery-operated alarm clocks, one banker’s lamp, one keyboard vacuum sweeper, and two (count them you envious critters) CD cleaner devices. Also, the collection of a lifetime lies on the shelves of a bookcase twelve feet long and eight feet high, paperbacks. Eat your hearts out.
As usual, I have saved the best collection for last. The quintessential collection, the one all humankind wants to have for their very own. I have three (you heard me), three huge boxes of loose bills, cancelled checks, advertisements, and old insurance policies stored in the attic. Lest I forget, I have collected 29 pair of jeans, 18 shirts, and 7 pair of underwear that no longer fit. Beat that. I dare you. I double-dog dare you.
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