Like your old stuff, art ain't easy....

There's an inscription in the concrete surrounding the chimney in my attic that reads, "PF Whitlock, March 23, 1906". That chimney's been out of use for years, but it was put in when the house was built, which was sometime during the Spring of 1906. I dont know for certain, of course, but since I first saw that inscription, I've just used that date as the date thay my house was completed. So, as of yesterday, my house turned 105 years old. Wow.

It got me thinking about other old stuff in my house. Not so much things OF the house, but things I brought with me. And I got some photos of some them.


First, there's this little trinket/souvenir. When I was in Europe in 1984, specifically Pisa, Italy, I bought this chincey replica. And it's still around. 27 years is old for a piece of crap piece of memorabilia, right?


Ignore all the assorted crap on the table, the important thing is the table itself. I have no idea how old the table is, it belonged to my grandmother. My dad did his homework at it as a child and even carved his initals into it one night. The table's been repaired but you can still see where they were. The table probably from the 1920's, maybe even earlier, but eighty couple years is old for a table.


This is my grandmother's rocker. Everytime I think of her, I see her sitting right in this. Teh upolstery is newer, about 20 years old, but the rocker itself is easily 90 years old, or more.


This is my dad's teddy bear, so it's just slightly older than 70 years old. Dad said it used to have eyes, but they came off years ago, and if you look, you can see some stiching that my mom did to repair it sometime inthe 1980s. But he's still a good looking teddy for 70.


This clock was my grandmother's as well. As she sat in her rocker, this clock was on a large boxy floor console radio beside her. Huge honking thing it was. But the clock was atop it, dinging out every hour on the hour, as well as different dings every 15 minutes. Noisy bastard, actually. And I'm guessing it's age to be comparable to the rocker and table.


When I moved out the parents' house into the apartment in 1997, Mom went out and bought me a bunch of stuff she thought every place needed. This, apparently, includes a box of salt big enough to kill a small mammal with if you hit it. And now, 14 years later, I STILL have that same box of salt. Oh, there's under half a box left, but I clearly don't use much salt as she thought I would. And I'm not real concerned about continuing to use it, cause people use salt to preserve other foods. Certainly salt can't go bad, can it? Even 14 year old salt?


The bed frame here is the one I used as a child, so that make it roughly 40 years old. Not the pillows, sheets, mattress or hat, just the headboard and frame. And I used that probably up until my teen years when I graduated to a double bed. But this frame is still in use in my spare room. And apparently there's nothing wrong with it, cause both Dave S. and Tam have slept on it (seperately) and lived to tell the tale.


As I mentioned above, Mom bought a LOT of 'necessities' when I moved out, and that includes these three: Baby Powder, Baby Oil and Q-Tips. I feel pretty certain in saying, that with the number of Q-Tips I've used in the last 14 years, there will be several hundred Q-Tips still in that packet when I'm lowered into the ground. Then they will a problem for my heirs.


In 1976, my parents got new furniture for the living room, including this horrendously upolstered chair and matching love seat. Oh God, they were both just hideous and en embarrassment even by the standards of the 1970s. What's even more embarrassing, I suppose, is that I still have this piece of 70's fashion sense in my bedroom. The love seat went to my cousin 20 years ago, and after being used by two stepsons in a playroom area for several years, is now somewhere in a landfill in Chambersburg PA. I feel the chair should be there too, but it's so ugly, I'd feel bad disposing of it. So a 35 year old chair that even the Brady Bunch would turn down sits in my house.


It's 1995. I'm hitting the local gay bar every Saturday night getting my groove (such that it is) on. And vests are all the rage, especially in gay cirlces (or at least the gay circles in Western Maryland). I have no vests. And certainly none appropriate for the thriving gay scene in Hagerstown Maryland. So, with Mom, I pick out this particular fabrics (rainbow colors, but not screamingly gay) and she makes me this vest. And I wore the HELL outta this thing. Not every Saturday, but damn near. And I ALWAYS got compliments on it, people wanting to know where I got it. Not sure why I still have it, cause I haven't worn a vest in at least 10 years. But I'm holding onto this 16 year old piece of clothing anyway.


In 1982, in the midst of Middle School, a group of friends and I started playing Dungeons & Dragons. And yes, it was just as geeky then as you think it is now. Nonetheless, I remember my excitement when I forked out my somewhat hard earned allowance to buy this baby at the local Waldenbooks. I have comic books that I bought off the shelf older than this, and I bought several 'children's' books prior to this. But this nearly 30 year old tome may just be the very first book I ever purchased.

My parents had my baby shoes bronzed and turned into bookends. They've always been in my room/apartment/house, but strangely, I've never used them as bookends. The shoes are 42-43 years old I'd imagine, I don't know how old the bookends are. Let's say 38-40 years old.


My iPod. It's on it's last legs, just barely hanging in there, but I've never had a lick of problem with it, and I got it for Christmas in 2004. An iPod over 6 years old is pretty spiffy, eh?


These are known affectionally as my "Fuck Boxers". Over time it's seemed that whenever I've worn them, and been on the lookout for sex, sex has found me. Certainly not every time, but I've gotten more nookie when wearing these than with any other pair of undies I've ever owned. And I've been having this luck with them since before I moved into the apartment, cause they got the name when I was till living at home. But I haven't used them in a long time because it's easier to find gentlemen of a similar mind online and when I'm trolling the Internet for hookups, I don't need to have ANY underwear on. Still, though, who else would have almost 20 year underwear in their possession?


And if we're gonna talk old, aged, and damn near infirm and senile, well we gotta include me. All 43 years of aged me.

I'm not the oldest thing in the house, but damn if I don't feel like I am sometimes.

POLT