Born in the Wrong Time

When I was little, I loved tie dye shirts and smiley faces. I thought bell bottoms were cool. I liked braids and words like "groovy" and "cool." My mom always told me I was born in the wrong time.

After a while, I had far too many tie dye shirts and way too many smiley faces in my room. I started growing out of them and moved into the current time period. As I get older though, I'm starting to enjoy antiques. My mom's best friend lost her mother last spring. She's been cleaning out her house for the a while now. Last time I was over, she gave me this little record player, and a crap load of records. 

She also gave me this old typewriter. I was so excited. My mom asked, "What the hell are you going to do with a typewriter?"

"Mom," I said staring at her, "I love typewriters. I want to be a writer."

She just stared at me, shrugged, and then walked away. Currently, it's boxed up in the basement because my mom won't let me keep it in my room. That's okay though. Someday, I'm going to have an office in my own house and it's going to be full of old typewriters, record players, cameras, and radios. I love antiques.

I don't know why I love these things, but I do. They fascinate me because they remind me of a different time. A time before the internet, iPhones, and all the new technology that I grew up with. I these things. Maybe because I had them in a past life. Maybe they are just pretty cool. Maybe I just like old things. I don't know, but I hope I have a huge collection of them someday.