Wednesday September 20, 2023
There is something really interesting to me about mundane old stuff. Not gay collectables, the kind of stuff that people used without even thinking about it. I was ripping apart old cabinets at my house, trying to make sense of the gigantic speaker that was built in. I have no idea when the speaker was installed, but I know for sure it’s old as hell. I assume it’s from the era of mono audio, since there isn’t a second giant speaker on the other side. I still wonder what they had hooked up to it, since the shelving around the speaker was obviously designed with specific equipment in mind.
I really, really tried to get the speaker working, but I don’t know what the wiring inside of a speaker is supposed to look like at all. I was spending too much time on a distraction and needed to get back to the task at hand, so I just cut a bunch of wires and ripped that shit out.
While plucking out the final pieces of shelving, I found an old yellowed note card with nothing particually interesting on it. It looked like notes from Sunday school or something. Still it made me wonder when it was from, who wrote it, what church they went to, if there were more notes like this in the house, and how the hell this one got in this spot in the first place. When rebuilding these shelves, I think I’ll leave some kind of note. I joked with my friend and said I’ll just write “What’s up asshole” but I think I’ll leave something with more detail just in case the next guy who tears the cabinets up also likes finding old shit.
My house was/is like a time capsule. The old lady who lived here before still had her (deceased) husband’s cologne sitting in the bathroom mirror when I moved in. It expired in 1974. It kind of fucks me up when I think about all the stuff that was thrown away by the junk guys. Objects that have been loved longer than I’ve been alive being chucked into a dumpster.