This post was dubbed “Fresh Pressed” by the people at WordPress. It was on my mind, so I decided to share it again.

T. W. Dittmer

I have a battered old soft-sided briefcase that was made in Hong Kong before some of you were born. I bought it to carry my Army stuff in, hauled it around the globe while I did my time with Uncle Sam.

There’s no army stuff in there any more. That all got replaced with other stuff over time.

Now that briefcase is filled with music and poetry and copyright certificates. Demo tapes from when I was going to be a famous musician. Guitar sonatinas and interludes. Doodlings and drawings. Clumsy attempts at art by a naive young man who would turn into a naive old man as the years rolled by.

A pile of raggedy old memories that sits in its hiding place, high up on a closet shelf.

I put those memories aside to do other things, but lately that briefcase has been calling to me, demanding that I…

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