Archive it

We recently got rid of a bunch of books. One of them was “The World of Don­ald Evans.” My par­ents gave it to me as a birth­day gift, a long time ago. It’s a fas­ci­nat­ing look at fic­tional stamps this artist cre­ated before he died at the age of 31.

I real­ized I had not looked at the book in almost as long as I’ve owned it. So I sold it on Ama­zon... but not before I took some rep­re­sen­ta­tive pho­tos of the con­tent. So now I can remem­ber that lovely gift, with­out my kids hav­ing to give it to a char­ity shop when I die. And hav­ing to take the time to do so. If they want to dig through my old hard dri­ves, they can do so. But those will take up the space of just a few shoe boxes. Or by then, a small flash drive. Or a small bit of the cloud. (But I like own­ing my own data!!)

I’ve writ­ten about this before: here and here. But I feel strongly enough about it that I wanted to remind you of this concept.

Go digital

Recently I went on about how great it is to go ana­log — by writ­ing or receiv­ing a let­ter. Today I’ll backpedal. I think you should not save every­thing. Sim­ply take a dig­i­tal photo and then throw what­ever away (or give it to your local char­ity shop). You will save your­self the has­sle of throw­ing it away later.

At one time in my life, I may have saved this lit­tle mov­ing tag. It’s a rem­nant of an era that passed sev­eral year ago. I may have put it in an enve­lope for look­ing at on a rainy day. (It rarely rains in Den­ver, though.)

And those ana­log let­ters you receive? Recy­cle them. If you really like them, save a few — but not all. (If your dad lives in a dif­fer­ent town and never writes — and you finally get a real let­ter from him — by all means, save it! Just strive for balance.)

If you liked this post, you’ll like this other post.

The Jesus sandals

When I was a kid, I saw a lot of Sun­day school mate­ri­als that had illus­tra­tions with Jesus wear­ing san­dals like these. As the sum­mer that’s just end­ing was start­ing, I decided to get a pair of sum­mer cool footwear that was more com­fort­able than these san­dals. (I had worn these for maybe five or six years.) You see, they never fit me very well — I have very skinny feet, and few shoes ade­quately fit.

I kept the san­dals until a few days ago. I decided that since I hadn’t worn them all sum­mer, they must be off to the Good­will. (In UK Eng­lish, that’s “char­ity shop”.)

So my feet are a lit­tle less like Jesus.