Hey! There's this thing I really really really love [tell me yours]

Tell me yours.

What I really love is my hair brush. The girls try to steal it, regularly (adult women).

It’s a great hair brush.
I’ve had it since I was in 9th grade.

I’ve had to drive to Ruston a few times, to get it,when my girls were down there going to college.

So…I missed it a couple days ago. I cried cause I thought this is finally it. I wanted it buried with me dang it.
I found it in Son-of-a-wreks truck.
I assume one of the grandgirls took it there.

It makes happy.

It just does.

I don’t know why.

I’ve had the same leather coin purse since I was 16. I’m turning 60 in a month.

I would definitely cry if I lost it.

(Pretty sure I’d carry it around with a few coins even if cash isn’t a thing anymore).

Can you post a pic? You’ve gotten me curious. What is this brush like that everyone wants to take, even the kiddos?

Decades ago, a friend gave me this toy robot.
He found it in a parking lot.
I’ve had it in every car I’ve owned since then. I made a weighted silicone-rubber base so it will stay on my dashboard, and not be too lethal in an accident. He’s melted and distorted from he brutal Arizona sun, but he still works. He’s my “plastic Jesus.”

~40 years ago my little brother went to Hawaii. When he returned home, we had a family meal to hear his travel tales and receive the gifts he brought home for everyone.

My sister and parents each took a turn unwrapping their gifts. My brother gave me a discreet wink. I didn’t have a gift to unwrap. It was assumed he and I had a fight about something and he was snubbing me.

Later in private he gave me the pipe he brought back for me. It is a volcanic (?) rock drilled to make it a pipe. I now have all sorts of extravagant glass pipes, but man, I love my Hawaiian pipe. If the house were on fire and I grabbed one possession, it’d be that pipe.

“This Thing”???

Bad, bad, bad.

I’m wracking my brain, because I want to “play along with Beck”.

But, inspired by the de-cluttering thread here, I’ve been trying to see my “stuff” unemotionally, so I can toss most of almost 70 years of detritus.

Hmm, I’ve always told my kids that I’d leave my pictures of them to burn and save my Boba Fett PEZ dispenser. So that’s got me thinking about the “thing” that I’d grab on my way out of my burning house. Mine’s already in my pocket; my mini-zebra.

I’m a professional doodler, so I always have this cute little mechanical pencil in my pocket. It’s short, it’s skinny, the lead is skinny (a standard .05mm, so I can put any color or hardness in it), and the eraser lasts a long time.

But I could buy another one… I’ll stop back in if I think of something that I’m sentimental about.

I’ll try.

I have an R2-D2 action figure. I bought it sometime in the spring of 1978, when Kenner was finally able to release the Star Wars action figure line. It was the first SW action figure that I bought (out of the hundreds that I bought over the years), and he came with me to college, then spent a year or two stuck to the dashboard of my car with some Plasti-tac.

He’s a little weathered and faded, but still has a place of honor in my collection of Star Wars stuff.

A folding utility knife. You know the kind, the trapezoidal shaped blade you change out every so often. Got it at lowes, about 20 years ago. Kobalt brand, you can keep up to 6 extra blades in the handle compartment. They discontinued it then brought it back made with crappy plastic key parts(the parts that hold the blade in place) and then immediately discontinued it again, for real that time. You can’t really get this style anymore. There is one out sorrrta like it, but its gigantic and only holds 3 blades max including the one in use and is pretty crappy. Mine is a little beat up, the pocket clip disappeared years ago and most of the blue paint is gone, but it still works perfectly. I’m pretty attached to it.

Took a picture of him. Definitely looking a little battered.

Me too, but I guess I just don’t care about stuff too much.
I do have a little metal pillbox (think Altoids tin) that my aunt gave me when I was in high school. It’s got a Beatrix Potter illustration of Peter Rabbit on it, and it’s beat all to shit. I’d be pretty bummed if I lost that, after carrying it almost daily for 35 years.

The only material thing I can think of having any emotional attachment to is my Guild D6 acoustic guitar. I bought it around 30 years ago, back when the Guild name still meant quality, and it’s gotten me through more than a few tough times. I used to say, back in my single days, if my house was on fire the only two things I’d rescue were my cat and my Guild, the rest can burn.

When my house was robbed, I was cleaned out of almost everything of any monetary value at all (later a neighbor told me they saw a van in my driveway which was there for a good 1/2 hour- they said they just assumed I was moving. So the robbers took their sweet old time). But for some reason they left my Guild, sitting prominently on a stand in my living room. So as violated as I felt at the robbery, I was fine, because again, as soon as I determined my cat was fine, nothing of any real value had been taken from me.

My Lowe brand cribbage board. My mother gave it to me for Christmas back in 1979. That night at a family gathering, I pulled out my new board and promptly kicked everyone’s butt. I have played probably a few thousand games on that board and have an extraordinary winning percentage on it. On the back I have noted 2 double skunk wins I had on it. I used it in 3 cribbage tournaments and won 2. The one I didn’t win I lost the cut to deal and my opponent insisted on using his board. I lost that game by 2 points. My in-laws have the exact same board and I lose all the time on it. If we use my board, I win. My will states I am to be buried with that board. I want to challenge Saint Peter to a game of crib.

I have way too much stuff that I put emotional value in, when there really isn’t real value in the item. Best of all is the pink toothbrush glass. We moved homes about the time I turned 6. This was in the height of avocado, harvest gold, and tangerine phase. My mother was thrilled to decorate her house in these colors. But now that there were four kids to account for and brothers fighting over toothbrushes and suchlike, my mom decided to get us each our own toothbrush glass. Naturally, she went with the colors that matched her designated colors. But what fourth color to get? She broke with her plan and purchased a bright pink one because she knew rightfully that I would love it and that my brothers would never, ever touch it.

It’s really just a 6 oz plastic juice glass, but I still value it because it was a special purchase just for me.

When we were very small, my siblings and I loved this book called, “The Little Man Dressed In Red,” by Carl Raymund. It was the only thing we ever agreed on. I’m not sure anyone who came to the library ever got to read it – we checked it out constantly. Many years later, on a lark, I checked eBay to see if a copy was for sale and, sure enough, I bought one. It’s not the same edition as the one we used to check out, but reading it brings back memories and – surprise! – they’re good ones!

Another one.
These seats are from the long-gone and dearly missed Ciné Capri.
They were a gift from a friend of mine. Another friend made the extremely sturdy, over-engineered platform that they are bolted too. It’s always fun to have movie night with old-timers and watch their reactions when they notice the “Harkins” logo on the armrests.

My special item is no more. I broke it over a year ago, into tiny pieces that couldn’t be glued together, but I think about it every time I need to salt something.

What it was was a porcelain salt shaker in the shape of a penis. It featured traditional flower designs and the words “Love from Amsterdam”.

It spent its first few years gathering dust on my mother’s knick-knack shelf after being brought from a trip by my father and 14-year-old me. When I moved out, I took it with me and started using it for the intended purpose. Not only was it a good salt dispenser with perfectly sized holes, it was a priceless conversation starter. Every repairman who ever did anything in my kitchen had something fun to say.

It was proudly displayed as a centerpiece at parties. One new friend said “It reminds me of my grandma’s pottery collection”. “Did she have a penis like this?”, I asked. “Yes, but hers was bigger”.

I didn’t manage to find a good photo in my collection, but here’s a closeup of it among other kitchen implements.

I wish I could find another penis salt shaker to buy for less than $100. I miss mine.

I have a cream dispenser in the shape of a boob, which I found in a thrift shop in rural Quebec. It’s inscribed “Bouvez Du Lait.” (Drink Your Milk). All glued together from various mishaps.

I have a remarkably similar story. About 10 years ago my apartment was broken into. The thieves stole a laptop computer and my 1960 Guild D-25M (mahogany). However, in their haste they left behind my 1970-something Guild T-50 (thin hollow body electric), which is really my pride and joy. I got a big fat check from my insurance company and replaced the D-25M with a nice Taylor.

Funny, it’s sort of the inverse of my story. Your thieves stole an acoustic but left your pride and joy electric guitar. My thieves stole an old beat-up Strat that never stayed in tune and had cigarette burns on the body from a previous owner, and left my pride and joy acoustic which was worth far more.

I used some of the insurance money and got a great deal on an American-made Strat— also used but in much better condition than the old one,