Photo of my dad at 19 Germany during WWII crouched down holding a puppy…he is such a ‘boy’ in the picture…
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Don’t have one. Just humans.
(I think it’s a by-product of nearing 50.)
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A pair of earrings that belonged to my mother. That, and the memories.
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My Minnesota Vikings hat signed on the bill by Fran Tarkenton. The first NFL game I ever watched was when I was seven. Tarkenton was amazing, and I’ve been hooked ever since.
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Aldo, our French bulldog
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If you’re talking about things and not living critters, I would have to say my guitar.
It’s a 1947 Martin 00-18 that belonged to my wife’s grandmother. It’s a sweet instrument with a warm tone that just makes me happy. I’ve had a dozen or so guitars in my life, but none of them play like this one.
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If kids don’t count, I’ve got an autographed photo of the 1980 US Hockey Team (signed by everyone including the late Herb Brooks) that I cherish. Good friend gave me that one.
I’ve also got a hockey stick signed by 14 of the guys that I got from a trip to Buffalo to watch a reunion game (same friend rode about a three-day train ride with me for that one). And then there’s the picture of the three of us: me her and Herbie.
It is a constant reminder than anything is possible.
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i have so many, but i can say the MOST prised comes down to 2. a 5 ft very old(20’3-40’s) metal resort sign. fish shaped. with bullet holes. saved by my grandpa’s cousin. used to set of fireworks. he wanted to trash it. i asked if i could have it.
and the other is a tiger/birdseye maple potato smoosher i got at an estate sale many years ago. it was only faintly pretty when found. 1/2 price. i paid $1.50. after oiling it, i bet it is early 1800’s. a true surviver.
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or is it the itty bitty brass crochet hook with incised flowers? or my cats?
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The hard drive in my main computer. Seriously. If I had to light out of here in a hurry, I’d be taking that.
Alternately, my Fender resonator guitar (with the silver body) or my real Persian Nain rug, both of which I saved up for, both of which I’d wanted for years, and both of which are nice things that I’ve finally been able to afford to buy for myself. (They’re my first really “own” nice things, if you get my drift. I’ve got other nice things, but most of them are hand-me-downs from someone, and they’re not necessarily the things I would have chosen to own if I had had the money to get alternates for myself.)
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or is it the itty bitty brass crochet hook with incised flowers? or my cats?
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I live rather simply and don’t really have too many things. Other than the cats, the thing that I will cart around wherever I move is probably a shadow box and my retirement certificate (with Bill Clinton stamped signature) from the military.
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A handwritten letter my father sent me from overseas (1944, WW2) right after I was born.
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My maternal grandfathers Belgian 16 gauge s/s double trigger anno approximately 1925 shotgun with engravings only some obscenely rich son of a bitch could afford having done today.
I don’t really hunt any more, don’t have no place to do so, but that gun’s a beauty.
Besides that – the three dogs and my crazy horse 🙂
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1958 Gibson es 355, or as my wife says, “That pretty red guitar.” Bought it from a friend in ’68, and took me all over North America for the next 13 1/2 years.
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My memories (yeah, sappy – but I buried my Mom today)
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my dog, but really I belong to him.
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Sorry, lb. That’s a tough thing to deal with.
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Like most, this is only if it ain’t the family.
A pretty decent copy of Flash #123- The Flash of Two Worlds. You know the one, A. The most money I ever spent on a single comic book and one of the all time best “Me and My Wife” stories.
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jim,
I’d love to play that Gibson 355. That’s a sweet guitar.
And lb0313, I wish I was there to buy you a drink.
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Family.
Which includes the cats. And the truck.
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I don’t consider him a possession, but Tigger the cat.
Second–my house itself; however, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second if I could give back the inheritance that allowed me to buy it…and get my dad back.
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My cat, Pippin, if you can consider a cat a posession. Other than that, I guess my house. I’ve put 20 years of sweat, blood and love into totally renovating and adding on to it.
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Oh, lb, I’m so sorry. One of my most prized possessions is the picture of the first quartet I competed with, when I sang with my mom. The picture of me is awful (worst perm ever, and I had this whole scary eye thing because I was obsessed with not having my right eye half-closed), but my mom looks wonderful. I treasure that memory, and I still have my mom.
Beyond that, books. I have several signed first-editions, and also several very old books, including an 18th century Latin Cicero my dad gave me for my birthday this year.
I treasure my cats and my husband above all, but they aren’t remotely “posessions.” But they’d be the things I got out of the house if it were on fire.
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Photo of my dad at 19 Germany during WWII crouched down holding a puppy…he is such a ‘boy’ in the picture…
Don’t have one. Just humans.
(I think it’s a by-product of nearing 50.)
A pair of earrings that belonged to my mother. That, and the memories.
My Minnesota Vikings hat signed on the bill by Fran Tarkenton. The first NFL game I ever watched was when I was seven. Tarkenton was amazing, and I’ve been hooked ever since.
Aldo, our French bulldog
If you’re talking about things and not living critters, I would have to say my guitar.
It’s a 1947 Martin 00-18 that belonged to my wife’s grandmother. It’s a sweet instrument with a warm tone that just makes me happy. I’ve had a dozen or so guitars in my life, but none of them play like this one.
If kids don’t count, I’ve got an autographed photo of the 1980 US Hockey Team (signed by everyone including the late Herb Brooks) that I cherish. Good friend gave me that one.
I’ve also got a hockey stick signed by 14 of the guys that I got from a trip to Buffalo to watch a reunion game (same friend rode about a three-day train ride with me for that one). And then there’s the picture of the three of us: me her and Herbie.
It is a constant reminder than anything is possible.
i have so many, but i can say the MOST prised comes down to 2. a 5 ft very old(20’3-40’s) metal resort sign. fish shaped. with bullet holes. saved by my grandpa’s cousin. used to set of fireworks. he wanted to trash it. i asked if i could have it.
and the other is a tiger/birdseye maple potato smoosher i got at an estate sale many years ago. it was only faintly pretty when found. 1/2 price. i paid $1.50. after oiling it, i bet it is early 1800’s. a true surviver.
or is it the itty bitty brass crochet hook with incised flowers? or my cats?
The hard drive in my main computer. Seriously. If I had to light out of here in a hurry, I’d be taking that.
Alternately, my Fender resonator guitar (with the silver body) or my real Persian Nain rug, both of which I saved up for, both of which I’d wanted for years, and both of which are nice things that I’ve finally been able to afford to buy for myself. (They’re my first really “own” nice things, if you get my drift. I’ve got other nice things, but most of them are hand-me-downs from someone, and they’re not necessarily the things I would have chosen to own if I had had the money to get alternates for myself.)
or is it the itty bitty brass crochet hook with incised flowers? or my cats?
I live rather simply and don’t really have too many things. Other than the cats, the thing that I will cart around wherever I move is probably a shadow box and my retirement certificate (with Bill Clinton stamped signature) from the military.
A handwritten letter my father sent me from overseas (1944, WW2) right after I was born.
My maternal grandfathers Belgian 16 gauge s/s double trigger anno approximately 1925 shotgun with engravings only some obscenely rich son of a bitch could afford having done today.
I don’t really hunt any more, don’t have no place to do so, but that gun’s a beauty.
Besides that – the three dogs and my crazy horse 🙂
1958 Gibson es 355, or as my wife says, “That pretty red guitar.” Bought it from a friend in ’68, and took me all over North America for the next 13 1/2 years.
My memories (yeah, sappy – but I buried my Mom today)
my dog, but really I belong to him.
Sorry, lb. That’s a tough thing to deal with.
Like most, this is only if it ain’t the family.
A pretty decent copy of Flash #123- The Flash of Two Worlds. You know the one, A. The most money I ever spent on a single comic book and one of the all time best “Me and My Wife” stories.
jim,
I’d love to play that Gibson 355. That’s a sweet guitar.
And lb0313, I wish I was there to buy you a drink.
Family.
Which includes the cats. And the truck.
I don’t consider him a possession, but Tigger the cat.
Second–my house itself; however, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second if I could give back the inheritance that allowed me to buy it…and get my dad back.
My cat, Pippin, if you can consider a cat a posession. Other than that, I guess my house. I’ve put 20 years of sweat, blood and love into totally renovating and adding on to it.
Oh, lb, I’m so sorry. One of my most prized possessions is the picture of the first quartet I competed with, when I sang with my mom. The picture of me is awful (worst perm ever, and I had this whole scary eye thing because I was obsessed with not having my right eye half-closed), but my mom looks wonderful. I treasure that memory, and I still have my mom.
Beyond that, books. I have several signed first-editions, and also several very old books, including an 18th century Latin Cicero my dad gave me for my birthday this year.
I treasure my cats and my husband above all, but they aren’t remotely “posessions.” But they’d be the things I got out of the house if it were on fire.