Nov 1999

I don't know whether it was the very first Poetry & Pizza, but I was throwing away some old papers and came across the notation on the calendar page for November 1999. The first Friday. November 5th.

So P&P has been at it for -- as of last November -- at least six years.

Throwing away papers for me always feels a little bit like throwing away history, like I have some obligation to the future to keep records of the past. But who's going to look at these dry notations? Really. Even if I were to become (posthumously?) a famous person (for what? my poetry?) is there anyone who would go through my old calendars in order to learn about me?

I do find material evidence interesting. You know, how many times did I call in sick that year? when was the last time I went to court for jury duty (1996 -- and I was dismissed after sitting all morning listening to the loud television in the jury pool room and people yakking on cell phones)? It's not like I write EVERYTHING in my journal. There's lots I don't bother to (or forget to) write about.

Kent had filled a grocery bag with old papers to shred. When I got home from work today I sat down and shredded everything in the bag. God, I hope that was okay. All that shredding inspired me to grab a few of my own papers -- the calendars, some old utililty bills -- and shred or discard them, too. Like I said though, it still feels weird.