I may not be a hunter, but I am most certainly a collector...

Collector, treasure seeker, or pack rat - call it what you will. If there's one thing that I am compulsive about, it's collecting.

I'm pretty sure I get that trait from my mother, who has every copy in the Harlequin Romance series since Harl first sat down to scribble.

It would be manageable for my wife if I could focus on littler things - like stamps, or oxygen molecules. No ma'am, in trademark masculine style, it's go big, or go home!!

I enjoy collecting books, which I have every intention of reading someday. I still have almost every comic I ever bought when I was a young whippersnapper, except a couple that I lent to my best friend in Junior High.

Bastard...

I also tend to hoard old magazines, just in case I need to consult a columnist on composting a stubborn pile of dry onion peels. Hey, it's not like someone's invented an online resource for that kind of thing...

I will never give my wife allowance for her wild-arse theory that none of these treasures have any value, even to a recycling depot. Where else will you ever find a copy of the June 1972 Time Magazine for easy household reference, or a 45 RPM copy of "What A Feeling", by Irene Cara??

Man, if my treasures could talk...

Chow for now!!