Those Who Do Not Organize the Past are Condemned to Repeat It

I read a newspaper article this weekend on the subject of mixed marriages. Of course, they emphasized the racial aspect of it, which only serves to highlight the drama... after all, isn't every marriage a mixed marriage?

I'm a great believer in the power of cliches; they are usually dismissed as trite, but really a cliche is just an observation so powerfully true that it comes to seem obvious. For example, "Opposites attract." It's undeniably true, and I would argue it's better news than it probably seems. I can tell you from this chair that I certainly wouldn't want to live with me. I think the "opposites" part is God's way of helping us fill the gaps -- and clearly if a Renaissance man such as myself is in need of gap-filling, it has to be universal enough to merit a cliche.

One notable mixture in this home refers to cleaning and organization. While I resist any facile characterization as a slob, it's also true that if cleanliness is next to Godliness, I'm probably more of a Christmas-and-Easter kind of believer. My spouse, on the other hand, considerately dropped in my lap an example of her mindset mere hours before I began to write this.

She noted that the wind was blowing pretty hard and that we might lose power (I'm not sure quite why it's so, but we sometimes lose power if a cloud passes overhead, so I understood her point). She said we needed to get prepared. Did she want to:

• a) make sure we had candles and flashlights
• b) stock up on food & fresh water, or
• c) make a reservation at a motel ?

No, I'm sorry, the correct answer is: "Clean the house so it will be easier when we get back."

On top of that, you know she believes in Tackling Things Head-On -- I would contend that tackling head-on has been proven to lead to head injuries and brain damage. I much prefer the time-honored "just don't bring it up at all and maybe she'll forget it has to be done" approach.

With the following consequence: for most of the past week our dining room table has been completely engulfed in loose photos and the albums designated to organize them. This isn't a new phenomenon; it happens every several months or so. Sometimes it's the den that's immobilized. I'm proud to report the following results to date:

1. as many as a dozen photos successfully placed in albums
2. several sporadic bouts of Putting Photos Into Piles, the significance of which no one can quite remember scarcely moments later
3. several meals eaten on a blanket spread out on the floor in the den ("Hey kids, good news! We're having another 'picnic!'")

There are all sorts of complicating factors, of course. I like to take photos of places -- sometimes because they're aesthetically pleasing, sometimes because they're personally significant -- but here's a hint: don't wait to label them for 10 or more years. You're just asking for trouble there. And while I'm an involved parent, if you're serious about 'sequencing' photos, it can be deadly difficult to distinguish between 3 and 4 years old. Or 2 1/2 and 3. And I'll admit it -- even to the dad babies often look alike....

Working together ought to be faster, but we get sidetracked both by the "look at this one -- remember?" factor and the inevitable discussion of priorities. She: "Where is this, exactly?" He: "Hmmm... it looks familiar...." She: "Well, if we don't know where it is, I'm throwing it away." He: " " (sorry, can't talk right now -- too choked up over the idea of throwing away a Piece of My Past. At least I figure it must be my past).

I have come up with the best possible solution: we bought a digital camera. Now instead of piles of photos, we have folders of photos on our hard drive (Of course, we've really shifted from "When are we going to organize photos?" to "When are we going to print photos?"). But if I can keep ducking it... it'll be our children, and maybe their children, who will have to sort out img_0147.jpg from all its numerically-anonymous digital brethren.