Quote:
Originally Posted by jingram058
I am new to these forums, but in looking over the posts here, seems like you folks are a lot like me. How many share a story like mine?... So I have again what I once just walked away from.
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Unfortunately, sounds like you're hopelessly addicted, like many here. When I went into the service as a seventeen-year-old, I thought I had devised a fool-proof scheme to protect and preserve my childhood card and comic collections from the early '50's. Turned out I was the fool. Well before I boarded the bus taking me to Basic, I went out to my father's garage that was packed to the rafters with ancient stuff from his childhood and found an old trunk that accommodated all of my precious ephemera, snapped a heavy-duty Yale lock on it and moved piles of heavy boxes to secrete it underneath. I know, the punchline is being telegraphed: about a month into basic training, I received a cheery letter from Ma, in which she casually informed me that she had finally got the old man to clean out his garage, and they had stuffed all of that useless junk into a truck headed for the local dump. I would have fallen to the barracks floor and cried, but I had to fall into a formation just then.
