Probably no need to linger over this for very long. Someone with a camera, most likely Mackenzie, loose in the house, decided I might be a worthy subject. Memo to Family: the guy behind the camera doesn't like to be in front of it.
But as long as we are here we might as well do a proper autopsy. The place is G-Burg, about 18 years ago, approximately. I am at the desk in my room, a wonderfully small first floor, wood-paneled hideaway. It was the computer room, Met's shrine, bill-paying center, neighborhood lookout, and doghouse for me and Missy. The wood was the thick old fashioned kind when paneling was real, not the fiberboard thin stuff they have today. Every once in a while a little furniture polish on it and it would gleam with elegance.
Most of my memorabilia was in here as well. One tends to go through a collection stage at a certain point, and then, happily, grows out of it. On the shelves I see books, VHS tapes, a stein from college arranged haphazardly to contribute to the ambiance of the room. A Mike Johnson Open hat on the lower shelf and just above a container of pictures - many of which you see now on Flashback Fridays. Nothing too organized would do.
The room had a small restroom for me and carpet for Missy. She could spend all day with me whilst I tinkered, searched, surfed, rifled, read, and watched - the only measure of the passing time would be her moving to the sunlit warm spots on the floor.
It was a grand house and I loved that room.
It was a grand house and I loved that room.
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