So I Thought I Could Dance

When my mom cleaned out her attic last fall, I came into possession of three storage bins packed with my own childhood stuff that I had not laid eyes on since my senior year of high school. As I have documented here, I am on a mission to de-stuff my stuff. As I dug my way through the bins, my vintage ephemera (old crap) fell into one of three classic categories:

Items I no longer had a use for:
Example - A plastic Foxmoor Casuals bag stuffed with notes passed between me and Dioni Verduzco circa Miss Konecny’s third period typing class in eighth grade.

Sweet, sweet circular file material.

Items someone else might be in need* of:
Example - 13 issues of Seventeen Magazine circa 1977-1982 - “Phoebe Cates fashioned this kicky poncho herself, in just a weekend!”

My 1977 Back-to-School Issue currently has one bid ($1.99) on eBay.

*The word “need” is subjective.

Items that rule:
Example - A 1st Place Disco Dance Trophy from 1978. This honor was awarded to my own John Travolta (an eighth grade David Clarke) and myself in the Junior High multi-purpose room in a school-wide assembly. I do not remember what song we danced to (Disco Inferno? Boogie Wonderland?) but I am certain that there was much Spandex involved and zero cool people. My career in dance would never again know such lofty heights.

Tragedy + Time = A New Piece of Awesome to Display On Our Mantel.

More buried treasure like that please.