Miscellanea

September 28, 2026

Greetings from the docent,

There’s a secret, not really proud of it, but I’m certain I can share it with you because you probably won’t tell anyone.  Also, if you have the same secret we can start a club.  Or a support group.

I like free stuff.

Not all free stuff.  Like if I go to Payless Shoes and they have BOGO, I don’t feel compelled to get two pairs of saddle shoes.  And I am not interested in lining up to try the free samples at Costco, or attending free workshops on estate planning or the value of time shares.

I like free things that are interesting, at least in the moment. Things that intrigue me, or make me feel like they have value, or potential. 

A simple example is the little notebooks people give away at conferences.  Long after I’ve filled them up and thrown away the notes, I keep the little covers thinking I’ll buy more paper to put in them, which I haven’t, but I might.

In 2007 I went to a conference in Philadelphia for newspaper columnists.  I still have the mini frisbee they gave me and a little reporter’s notebook, which I kept because there are still blank pages in it, and one day I might need a place to write something.  Maybe that’s not the whole reason.

Lots of giveaways from races I’ve been in, sometimes age-group prizes, sometimes just merch or marketing junk.  Little zippered pouches, mugs, glasses, packets of energy drinks I am going to try one day. I have thousands of tiny safety pins, which I will never ever need because there will be more at the next race.  But there could be a shortage at an inopportune moment.  Maybe one day I can use my collection for an art project.

Sometimes I get a good box, not just any old cardboard thing, but something with a lid, or a hinge or an interesting feel.  I have the little velvet box that some cuff links came in, now gone more than a decade.  I have boxes and boxes and I keep them thinking I can use them for something.  Like organizing my safety pins. Right now I am using them for organizing good boxes. 

Like the box my iPod came in.  I am planning to use it to give an ordinary gift to someone and they will open it thinking I am giving them a 20 year old music device.  Still waiting for the perfect circumstance there.

I have bonus shoelaces from shoes I haven’t had since the Bush era.  Most sportscoats, and many dress shirts, come with extra buttons, and I saved those.  I used to take them when I traveled in case there was a button emergency.  There hasn’t been one. Yet.

The little Allen wrench from every piece of furniture that needed to be assembled. I keep them for the moment when I might disassemble things I don’t own anymore, or in case a neighbor comes over and needs to solve an Ikea problem. 

The return address stickers that organizations give when they solicit money.  Pads of Post-it notes.  Pens from banks, insurance companies, hospice organizations.  I have pens from a pen company. There are never enough pens.

I like those really nice paper bags you can get at Trader Joe’s.  I like the earphones from Delta, the tiny sewing kits at hotels, the socks with the little traction strips they give you when you’re in the hospital. Seems silly to throw away the perfectly good Ziploc bag the Covid mask came in.

Beer steins from parties and commemorative pins and patches and things that were given as a memento, that seem too nice to throw out.  Those gold foil seals you can use on fancy birthday cards, that I always forget to use but know I’ll want to one day.

The reason I have kept this miscellanea a secret is: I know how it sounds. Like this could lead to a day when the authorities discover my remains surrounded by interesting boxes and soggy Post-it notes all packed in really nice grocery sacks.

I want to say, that’s not me.  I am not a collector; I am not in love with any of this.  I am not a hoarder, this isn’t a compulsion to surround myself with stuff. I think maybe I am just trying to arrange the dust in an interesting way.  Maybe.

This week I nosed around in the places where these things gather. This old wooden cigar box that once held something important, but now just forms air in a rectangle.  A tray with coins from foreign countries, some of which are no longer legal tender.  A really cool organizer of screws and mollies that my friend Floyd gave me twenty-five years ago, that is still intact. 

I think it’s time to tidy up.  I just realized a really good use for a few of my boxes.  Time to make stuff free.

Hope this finds you making a clean sweep,

David

This essay was written by the author and does not include Ai content.