I ran across a really cool website: theburninghouse.com
It offers this challenge:
If your house was burning, what would you take with you? It's a conflict between what's practical, valuable and sentimental. What you would take reflects your interests, background and priorities. Think of it as an interview condensed into one question.
I'll admit this was a lot harder than I thought it would be. The first things that came to mind I quickly realized didn't fit the challenge. They were things that I could replace--things like:
I had to remind myself that this was not about what would you gather up and take if the apocalypse was impending; as if I would worry about dragging a bag full of stuff into the ruination. But wait; maybe I could use some of that stuff to barter my way in to the bunker of some delusional doomsday prepper. Let's be real--I don't really know anyone that would want to share their pork 'n' beans with me for eternity.
So, in the interest of the burning house challenge, here's my list:
- Little elf doll. I bartered this little guy away from a French-speaking hippie in Montreal, Canada in 1967. I was there playing drums with a tour band (not running from the draft). The hippy was wearing the elf on a piece of leather lace around his neck.
- The little green apple is actually a USB drive containing the files of all The Beatles recordings and album art. An unbelievable collection--a gift from my Amazing Missus.
- My Grado Headphones.
- My bookplate stamp.
- A camera.
- My passport in case I need to travel abroad to escape from the fray.
- A snack. I learned from my mom that you never go into the unknown without a snack.
- The complete collection of Karlee & Harper photo books--priceless.
- Drumsticks and pad.
- My Bible. It is drama, mystery, and poetry all in one beautiful book.
- A few journals. I don't journal like I used to. A few years ago someone broke into my vehicle and stole a bag containing my laptop and some journals I had written and highly valued. Jerks!
- A few items with sentimental back stories.
- A book of Mother Goose nursery rhymes. You've got to remember innocence in the midst of all-hell-breaking-loose.
How about your list?
Come on, share it. I won't judge you... Oh, okay, in the interest of end-times honesty, I will probably judge you. See why nobody would want me in their bunker?