hey, hey i’m a little embarrassed to admit this

When a female child turns 13, something happens to her brain. I’m not sure if it’s chemical, physical or a combination of the two, but it’s as if a switch gets thrown, lighting up a blinking neon sign exclaiming “Now Open 24 Hours: OBSESSION.”

I was not immune to this phenomenon. Once I found the object of my desire, I embarked on a single-minded pursuit to seek and consume every photograph, recording, moving image and bit of trivia related to my obsession. My focus and determination was akin to swarms of ravenous locusts, and these four lads were my ancient Egypt:

The Monkees were the end-all-be-all of my 13 year old world.  This was during the 60′s revival of the late 1980′s when re-runs of their campy television show could be seen on MTV and Nickelodeon.  I memorized every episode and, since our VCR at the time couldn’t record off the TV, I held my portable cassette player up to the television speaker and recorded the audio. Everyone did that, right?

I had all their albums on tape:

And I was given their debut album on vinyl:

I bought countless Tiger Beat magazines for the photos and posters:

I bought every book I could find:

Thanks to some fan catalogs, I acquired two issues of The Monkees Monthly, which was a fan magazine published in their hey-day during the 60′s:

And, I also got copies of scripts from two separate episodes of their show:

I got to see them in concert (sans Mike Nesmith) at Six Flags and my mom drove me and my best friend, Carrie, four hours to a Chattanooga mall so we could stand in line and get Davy Jones’s autograph on our copies of his autobiography:

One summer when I couldn’t watch their show because I was staying with my dad in Michigan who didn’t have cable, Carrie, being the awesome friend that she is, wrote down all the best quotes from the show in colorful markers and mailed it to me:

Yes, Carrie. I still have this.

During the height of my fanaticism, I traveled to England with my mom and step-dad and I brought my three-ring binder filled with photos and my books with me on the trip because the thought of leaving it all behind caused me actual physical pain.

There’s more, much, much more, but I’ll spare you further details.  You’re welcome.

Eventually, my obsession with all things Monkee died down and I evolved into a creature that could appreciate many different bands and television shows without resorting to compulsive hoarding of memorabilia.  However, as you can see, I still have my Monkees collection. I haven’t yet been able to part with even the smallest scrap.

Although all this stuff isn’t as important to me as it once was, I can remember how each photo and note of music and frame of video made me feel at the time. It’s that feeling that I want to hold on to; the total abandon of supreme fandom.

I think the desire to recreate that feeling is the reason it’s becoming more and more acceptable for adults to geek out over television shows or characters from comic books. The fanboys and fangirls are growing up, but they are not letting go. It’s not just nostalgia, it’s a refusal to believe that once you’re an adult you have to give up such things.

Maybe I’ll take some of my Monkees collectables and make a collage or a diorama to hang on my living room wall.  My decorating style is already schizophrenic, so why not?

What were you obsessed with as a kid? Did you give it up, or are you still an active fan-geek?

my cabinet of curiosities

I like stuff.  Who doesn’t, right?  But, I like random stuff.  Stuff that’s found or things acquired from forgotten sources.  The odd bits of flotsam washed ashore that end up in the sand pail of your life.  My husband is a fan of  random found treasures as well.  Together we have amassed an interesting little collection.  It’s all scattered throughout our house, but I want to gather it all up and put it on display.

Kinda like this. (click on pic to go to source)

Or like this. (click on pic to go to source)

Displays like these are called Wunderkammer which means “wonder cabinet” in German.  They started out as rooms (“cabinet” is an anchient-timey word for “room”) where rich people would store their collections of nifty crap that they’ve acquired.  These collections eventually became the first museums.  Traditionally, the rooms would be filled with wonders of the natural world, but evolved to include man-made items as well.  Learn all about them by clicking on the following underlined word: awesomesauce.

Here are a few of the items that I would include in my cabinet:

It’s hard to tell from the photo, but that brown bottle has a large fresh-water clam shell inside it. The clam must have swam (walked? climbed? scooted?) inside when it was little and then grew too big to escape.  I found the luna moth on my back porch dead and dried and perfect for mounting inside a shadowbox frame.  Thanks, Nature!

The Lucky Cat was a gift from my mom and I’ve filled it with pocket change from other countries.  The giant novelty penny is from my grandma, quite fitting knowing her affinity for coins, and the fishing reel belonged to my husband’s grandpa.

You already know about the space ship, Mr. Bill I’ve had since high school and the grenade was purchased from an Army surplus store years ago.

Please don’t ask me to explain the cow terrarium. It just makes me happy, okay?

I know it sounds morbid, but I would love to find an animal skull.  Skeletons facinate me, skulls especially.  Now, I’m not gonna go scooping up road-kill or anything, but if I’d happen upon some bones while walking in the woods that would be super cool.  Non-human bones, that is.  And we’re walking . . .

I need to find the perfect cabinet for all these curiosities; preferably something old with glass doors.  A dusty relic from a thrift store would be perfect.  I’d also love to come across some old tin toys to add to my collection and maybe a fossil or a bird’s nest and more cobalt bottles.

Woah.  How did Adam Baldwin get in there?  It’s just silly that I would put him in my Cabinet of Curiosities.  I mean, of course he belongs in my Basement of Earthly Delights.  Along with ten cases of wine and a freezer full of Snickers Ice Cream Bars.

What little oddities would you put in your Wunderkammer?  I don’t want to know what you’d keep in your basement.