Whenever I go to a trade show I resist the urge to stuff my pockets or tote bag with the little giveaways that many vendors place at their booths to draw you close. Yet over the years my office has become a museum for a collection of objects that I picked up from who knows where.
The ones I can spy from my desk include the blue cheerleader guy, staple removers, myriad screwdrivers, “Talker Putty”, letter openers, a UB key chain, a Coqui frog, a ruler, one ubiquitous buffalo, two brains and a blue squeezie ball that bulges bright red when squeezed.
I don’t know why I keep the stuff. In my desk is another assortment of name tags (really nice ones!), 99-cent headsets, dozens – no, hundreds – of pens, a magnifying glass, and a rock with some saying on it that has long since been rubbed off.
Someday I’ll decide that my office would look better de-cluttered, and most of this stuff will get chucked. As for now, I simply leave it laying around, inert, reminders of trade shows that I’ve long forgotten.