Tuesday, May 17, 2016

You can, briefly, go home again

There comes a point in everyone's life when the house they grew up in is no longer their home. It is a significant developmental milestone for some of us and while I won't claim that moment for me is now -- I haven't lived there in eight years -- there are some times when its place and what it holds are thrust back into your consciousness. For me, that time has come.

My mother has decided to sell my childhood home, and with that comes many responsibilities on everyone in the family, in particular the need for me to clean out my bedroom for the first time in 30 years. Apparently, using your parents' home as a storage facility isn't the greatest idea, and bit by bit I am chipping away at the monumental task of clearing out the house.

This is not necessarily a bad thing, though. In sorting through old drawings of football players and Wolverine from 1993, postcards my grandmother sent me from Spain in 1989 and a copy of the 2001 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue that I have apparently been hiding in a draw for 15 years I've entered a lengthy and at times overwhelming walk down memory lane. In between issues of Sports Illustrated proclaiming that nothing could stop Lance Armstrong, Tiger Woods or Michael Vick, I uncovered some shocking discoveries such as the fact that Westminster Abbey hasn't changed its tickets in 20 years and the circus somehow cost $45 back in 1991.

As you might have guessed, though, while English cathedrals and parades of elephants are fascinating, the real finds (with the notable exception of one nearly complete technodrome toy from my fifth birthday) were generally of the sports variety.