Bits & Pieces

"Hey, check it out," Mr. Ginley called to me this morning.

I took a quick break from work to see what he'd unearthed this time. He held up a business card with the name of a friend from J.B. Robinson Jewelers.

Me being me, I had to take a snap and send it to my friend, who married the guy whose name is on the card. 

Back in the day, business cards were handed out like candy during business meetings. It feels like this practice has gone the way of fax machines and land lines and civility.

A short while later, Mr. whooped again. It was the mother load.

Years ago, he went to my siblings (and siblings-in-law) and asked them for their business cards. The collection is an interesting snapshot of who-worked-where and did-what in the beforetimes. It was also sad because one of the business cards belonged to a much-loved, very much missed family member. 

Among the stack were a few of mine, too. I was never high enough on the food chain to get a business card at J.B. Robinson, but I did get one at Kay, then Sterling, then Signet. Then...bupkis. Well, this isn't technically true, because I had some printed when I was freelancing, in between – and during – other gigs. 

In addition to business cards, Mr. has collected some other interesting detritus. Which is probably why he enjoys the annual Case Western Reserve University Book Sale so much. Of course, I can't say much because I was right there with him at the ephemera table last weekend, picking through the piles of books, pamphlets, postcards and other odds and ends in search of treasure.

And yes, we came home with some more stuff that someday Joe will be sorting through, shaking his head, and muttering, "What possessed them?"

Don't tell him I said this, but I've secretly enjoyed some of the stuff Mr. has unearthed lately. The map to the parking lot of our apartment in Virginia. The Alexandria Visitor's Guide. Prayer cards from those who have gone before. And an old address book filled with names and places of people who moved on long ago.

Artifacts all.

I know that disposing of things that have no purpose is probably a good thing. Hoarding can be scary.

On the other hand, these little bits of flotsam and jetsam have taken me to long forgotten places. 

And that's not such a bad thing after all.