Last week I rambled on about what was in one of the several junk drawers I have in my kitchen. This week I attack my office. Which is not hyperbole, because it is very nearly a very scary living thing.
I have always thought that my office is the greatest reflection of my personality in my house. The other rooms are decorated nicely, with coordinated colors and family photos, some lovely paintings (not done by me), books, knick-knacks etc. You can get somewhat of an impression of my character from viewing those items when you come to visit. But, if you really want to know who I am, then you need to risk everything and venture into the great cavernous crater which I affectionately call “The Abyss” which is my office.
Here I have “stuff.” I used to love George Carlin’s routine about “stuff.” You have to buy “stuff” to put your “stuff” in it. I have succeeded in doing that…and then some.
Let’s start with the walls. Almost every inch of them is covered with something or other. There is the framed ticket from the 2008 US Open held at Torrey Pines in 2008, which is “trimmed” with several lanyards and ID badges from other events. There are some from business conferences but my favorite is the ticket/badge from the AFC Playoff game when the San Diego Chargers played my (former) home team, the Jets, last year. My son took me to it (as well as the US Open) and though my allegiance was torn, I went home happy. Across from that is an enlarged photo of my three children when they were small, and next to that are their framed birth announcements while under it is a photo of me with the three of them at the surprise 60th birthday party they threw for me. The picture’s mat is filled with autographs and messages from my friends and family who attended. To the right of that are several bulletin boards filled with papers from events OCAS will be attending, snips with addresses and phone numbers, drawings by grandchildren, some more photos, a file drawer with the fax on top of it and then you get to my desk.
Ah, the desk.
I seldom see the top of it. There is a lifeguard stand light that also holds my telephone. No lifeguard, but when I’m drowning in papers I often wish there were one. Highlights of the desk include the over-sized monitor necessary for my aging eyes, the scanner, the cup overflowing with pens (most of which no longer work) and the two shelves on top of it hold some of my most treasured possessions, none of which go together or make any sense, except to me. There is a large birdhouse/lifeguard station a friend made for me. A lucite award given to me for being Volunteer of the Year. Then, a baseball signed by ex-Met, Keith Hernandez, various jars filled with sea shells, a mug from Fiuggi, Italy (home of healing waters where I got one of the worst intestinal bugs ever, undoubtedly from the afore-mentioned waters), more mugs from NYC, the Kentucky Derby (the year that Barbaro ran) and my alma mater. There are carved picture frames, one for “Grandchildren” and the other for “Memories with Friends”, corks from a bottle of Dom Perignon opened on my 50th birthday in Paris and Martinelli’s on my 60th on the beach here (no alocohol allowed on the beach). A fish from Mexico, frogs from Puerto Rico, and hanging on the wall next to that is the marionette puppet I bought in Thailand, which is really scary looking. Then there are books and more books. On writing. On being healthy. On being a good person. On art. A small TV, a printer the size of a Smart Car and a basket filled with, yes, even more papers. The pilates ball I bought a year ago that is still in the box in which it came. I’ll get to it someday.
Other odds and ends include lots of pictures of the grandchildren, a picture of my dear friend Maria who passed away very suddenly in her 50′s, a “check” from my son for a million dollars, various ticket stubs from shows I’ve attended, the framed scraps from the parking attendant I met the day of my divorce and a bookmark that reads “You are never too old to be what you might have been. – George Eliot.”
The “naked” side of the room has as its focal point a poster from my absolute favorite surfing movie, The Endless Summer surrounded by eight framed photos of sunsets that I took around the world. They are hanging over two chairs that pull out to be twin beds (in hopes that “…the grandchildren soon will be there…”) and yet another file cabinet with a surfboard light atop it. The mirrored closet holds my golf clothes, more files, and the three spare articles of clothing that MOTNSO keeps here in his allotted six inches of closet space.
There’s also a full bath attached to this room, which is decorated with Tommy Bahama postcard stuff and posters of whales. Last spot on the walls is taken up by the one painting I did that I ever thought was worth framing. It’s of the backyard of the most favorite house I ever owned.
I don’t know if you found this particular post interesting, but if nothing else, it might make you think about which room in your home best reflects you! Please share!