The Soul

The Internet As Attic

I think I’m at that point in life where things get recursive. My past matters as much as my future. So…middle age. Which – I’m forty-seven – means I’ll live to ninety-four? We can hope.

So for a couple of years I’ve been spelunking around eBay, finding toys that I used to own when I was a kid. Not ordering them – I don’t need to own them. But it’s nice to know they haven’t totally disappeared – that they are around somewhere.

Like this one:

Part of the Best Christmas Evar.

Or this, which got lost in a move from New Jersey to Delaware, and I have mourned it ever since:

I was very big on dolls.

This was my lunchbox. I hated it:

Part of why I love the Internet so much is that nothing ever really gets lost. If you search long enough, you can find it. So you don’t actually have to own it or save it – there’s a persistance to memory now that didn’t used to exist.

I leave you with this: a Kanga breakfast buddy.

One thought on “The Internet As Attic

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