Souvenirs of Yesteryear: Historical preservation

See that old dilapidated building in the photo? To me, it is a thing of beauty, a fortuitous kinetic sculpture which moves over time as it seeks its lowest energy state. If its progressive demise could have been captured with time-lapse snapshots, it would have shown all the restless stages in its staggered collapse.



I identify with such wretched ruins because I do have snapshots of my own protracted life cycle. My waxing and waning are, in retrospect, satisfying because I have persisted this long. Sometimes I feel exactly how that poor old building looks. Aches and pains be damned; full speed ahead, into the looming abyss of inevitable doom.

Of course, not everyone agrees with my aesthetic values. Most folks believe that such debris should be hauled away to the dump. So too, does a youth-oriented society believe that we old geezers should be hauled away to a nursing home on our way to the graveyard. However, as a militant geriatric, I push back because I like old stuff.


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