My father came by to have lunch last week, and to see the new house. He also bought us a lawnmower, which was very sweet, and much needed. He also gave me a box of stuff that was labled "chris' garbage". As I was putting away the lawnmower yesterday, I opened it and inventoried it a bit. Turns out, it was full of my garbage. Contents including:

• A de-milled hand grenade. Useful.
• Random baseball cards from the early '80s. 1982 Topps Robin Yount, anyone?
• Many, many cards from many, many relatives. No money overlooked, though.
• A large collection of notes from my high school girlfriend. Awww.
• A picture of my high school marching band. Taken from my father's airplane. See, not even my own personal aerial photog could make me cool.
• A worn out wrist pin from the first motor I ever rebuilt, on the first car I ever owned.
• A rant, ostensibly authored by me, about how no one would ever understand me. Gosh, 17-year-old Chris, please tell us all about your emotions. Geez, what a prick I was.