The Sentimental Archivist

I have been teased, and have even taken a few shots at my-own-self for calling this corner of the web "ihopeiwinatoaster."  It's a little too late now to do anything about it, but, I might have called it "The Sentimental Archivist" because, well, I just can't resist archiving this shit.  Once I started taking a look at the stuff coming from Nick and Zack, I couldn't, can't, stop.

It has implied value now.  I see a drawing, hear a phrase, catch a bit of conversation and wonder about it.  I watch them come to understand ideas and concepts as they hear the words of Harry Potter or the wisdom of Aslan, and I note it.  I watch them dig a trench along a molehill across half the yard, earnestly, courageously, and remember the trenches I dug, for no reason except I had to.  I have come to see them in a different light, with a deeper understanding because... I pay attention to them.

I'd like to say that it's all about how great a parent I am, but, that would be - how to say it - a lie.  No, I see a lot more, pay more attention, because, at first, I needed to find things to write about.  Today, though, I have piles of papers and booklets and drawings and assemblages and songs and, and, a mind soaring with stories to tell about them, about me, about us.

I picked up that first piece of paper off the basement floor and read "No pliers are available" and knew a place had opened up, a place I had to look into, a place I needed to think about, a place I needed to stay.

I am glad I did.


Zack made this book a while back.  I'll just let you take a look at it:

And what, you might ask is the appeal here?  Innocence, I'd say.  Maybe silliness.  Maybe naivete.

Do you want to know the truth?  Simply this little panel, this little corner on page one where the hero is introduced:

Selfishly, I truly want to remember this.  I can go on about how he will see it someday and think back on this, remember that he took the time, had the time, was given the time, to make this.  It may be making him smile right now, I can't say that is my motivation.  No, I just really like "King Zack" and always want to remember a little boy who would be king.

(It's the crown... it's so damn cute.)


Nick sat at this very desk in the basement the other day as Z and I played a game of ping-pong.  I won (which I am endeavoring to do until they are out of high school, just... because) and it was Nick's turn.

"Here's Guy," he said as he handed me this:

I like Guy, he seems happy, carefree, and, I want to remember him.


Usually now is the time I sign off and leave you with a quip from Marci's "...things you don't expect to hear from the backseat..."  Well, I don't feel like asking her to post it so I can repost it here.  So...

Nick:  "I'm Nibbley McMunchykins .  I am a purple mousemonkey."

Yes, yes he is...

Thanks for taking a look around today, I am glad you stopped by.  Summer is a hard time to keep up with posting here, but, I'll be back when I can, I am a sentimental archivist, you know.