This 1979 photo shows the condition of my former bedroom 11 years after I graduated from high school. It definitely did not look like this when I inhabited it, although no photos exist to confirm this observation.
I share the photo because if I had been a twice-divorced, successful science-fiction writer in 1979 and decided to move in with my
mother, I could have done
nothing to return this room to its former state.
0:53. "I want my room back."
A great movie, by the way.
The stuff of my youth was not packed away in the attic, (although plenty of other family junk still is. But that's because my youngest brother, who has slept in the same bedroom for most of his life, is a packrat.)
Nor did I take any of it with me to college or any of the places I lived after graduation. I lived a very mobile life during the 1970s. In fact, for a number of years, my belongings comprised whatever I could pack into a VW Beetle or Datsun B210.
Now, after 28 years at the same address, we'd need a small U-Haul just to pack the family archives.
