Retro Relics and the Communist Manifesto

Today I ventured back to my parent's house to try and sort out the madness that is my old room. I have been doing this on and off (mostly off) for the past few months, and as I had some time I thought I would make another attempt at mucking out the old cave.

I found shit I didn't even knew existed. Among the relics I found was a S.C.U.B.A. mask, a fencing helmet, a bizarre hand duster (literally a shitty glove with yarn attached to the fingers), my old POG collection and a plethora of Collectible Card Games, including Star Trek TNG and Magic the Gathering.

I was amazed to find these relics of the early 90's and that they were still in such good condition. I thank my obsessive compulsiveness/nerdiness for the near mint condition of the playing card games that I never really played. In retrospect I feel a little cheated. And like I had no friends.

Anyways, I decide that the only thing that can be done with these relics is to put them on ebay. But alas, tradgedy. For some peculiar reason no one is buying shit like this. I wonder why? Is it the complete outdatedness of said items, or are kids these days more involved in the digital realm than in lame pieces of cardboard that creepy dudes in their thirties with ponytails sell at the local hobby hut? Either way I feel cheated. I collected these items to make money on a later date. That later date has arrived, and I just want to get rid of them.

So what do I do? Let down the childhood entrepreneur in me or figure out a way to make some cash money from the stupid shit I bought when I was a dork with no friends? (Well, the friends I had were dorks too, so they don't count). Luckily, I convinced my mom to help me ebay the shit after the holidays, which means little work for me and I get the shit out of my hair. Thanks, Mom!

Thankfully I still have the old stand by of my comic book collection, which includes an Action Comics issue 290 and a Batman issue 93. I am glad a made one fruitful investment in childhood frivolity. And even better, all the cool friends I have now are envious of my great comic collection.

Later I had a conversation with my father about life. He stated I should set out a one, five, and ten year plan. While I am not usually keen on the ideology of Mother Russia, I will say that for the first time in my life I shut up the inner monologue that usually plays when he talks and actually listened. (I hope he doesn't read this) Listening to my rapidly approaching 60 year old father I had an epiphany: He actually does know what the fuck he is talking about.

We have just lost cabin pressure.

He always told me that the day would come, and until today, December 4th in the year of our lord 2007 I always thought the old man was, well, full of shit. So, for once in my life I will suck it up and admit to being wrong.

Now, off to write those year plans and make my life happen!