RTG Day 7: Pack rat,...or Sentimentalist?

Rediscovering the Groove, Day 7: Tell A Story.

Hello.  My name is Squeaks.  And I'm a pack rat.  (Rodent metaphor completely coincidental.)  Maybe not to the extent of deserving a spot on Hoarders, but I do tend to hold on to things that may not be... immediately useful anymore.

I would argue, though, that this trait has proven valuable when I've been able to triumphantly dig out an old e-mail from my stash of thousands,... or rediscover my almost 20-year old French class notes before our trip to Paris,... or trace my evolving volunteer interests over the years through countless folders of planning notes.

At some point, though, I guess there has to be a limit, a need for intervention.  But what is that threshold?  And what is exempt?  I will never destroy my journals or attempts at creative writing, even though no one may actually ever read them.  I have concert t-shirts from over 2 decades ago that sit in a very heavy chest, which may never see the light of day again until someone busts it open for an estate sale.  Are these items being hoarded by a pack rat,... or one who appreciates souvenirs from the past?  That can provide good fodder for posts like this?

Four Play concert t-shirt, circa 1986.

Take this t-shirt, for example.  My sister got it for me in the mid-80s, at a concert at IMU's Alumni Hall on the Indiana University campus in Bloomington.  I was 14, I think, and it was during a period when I thought it was so cool that my college-aged sister let me tag along with her and her friends to R-rated films -- like Blue Velvet -- and rock concerts -- like Genesis (my first!) and this one, featuring four relatively new bands at the time: Will and the Kill, The Northern Pikes, Hurrah!, and The Royal Court of China.  (Awesome, they're all still around.)  While I finally conceded to retire this thread-bare, hole-in-the-armpit piece of history earlier this year -- it had served me well for countless workouts -- I still wonder whether I should have given it up.  Well, at least good memories like this can live on, even in the absence of a "thing" that takes up drawer space.