Press Kits, inertia, history...

When I was young, I'd hear stories of grown children entering the homes of their deceased parents and finding there no end of, well, crap—fifty years of canceled checks, tax returns dating back two generations, sales receipts from purchases made at the corner store when the corner store had not yet been torn down for the filling station.

And I'd wonder how on earth it happened. The parents knew such things were worthless. Yet, they kept them. They kept them for decades.

Ah, but now…

As you know, I'm moving. I've mostly finished cleaning out my office. But, today I put my courage to the sticking place and went into the basement. Box upon box of papers awaited me. Most of these date to the twenty years or so that I was a trade press journalist.

It was astonishing stuff really—press releases, notes I'd taken, rough and second drafts of articles, photos of various computers, a couple of plaques I'd gotten when winning various awards from various press organizations.

As I hauled most of it to the dump (I completely filled the back of my little Ranger pickup with boxes and crates of paper), I asked myself why on earth I'd kept it all…or, indeed, even wanted it. Then, I remembered my motivations. Each time I'd leave a magazine I'd smuggle out my files. The idea was that I'd use the material, the contacts, the notes, the photos in articles I'd write for my new employer…or, if that employer did not prove lasting, for freelancing.

And, in a very, very few cases, that actually happened. But, most of the time, somehow, I never got around to it. I'd mean to take the files into the new office…but, there was the job to learn, there were new subjects to research, new deeds to do and promises to keep. I'd intend to open my notes for all those articles I was going to write freelance…but, there was the boy to raise, the marriage to maintain, a life to lead, and, well, nothing came of it. The boxes never got out of my basement.

Then I understood…the fifty years of canceled checks, the register tapes from 1942. It is human nature. For me to have actually made use of all those boxes of files, I would have had to expend considerable effort. I would have had to sort and organize, shift this and move that, find a place for something else. Easier, easier by far to simply let it sit there.

Thus inertia. It is like gravitation. Seemingly feeble, but given time and mass, irresistible, immovable…mighty beyond measure.


*

Actually, I rather enjoyed going through all the press kits and releases from decades past. It was strange but pleasant to travel there in my personal history, among the things which had seemed so exciting at the time.

All useless now, of course. The companies that mailed the releases and kits exist today only in the memories of former employees. The products they offered are obsolete, as dead as dinosaurs (more so, if you consider birds).

Yet just because it is useless does not mean it is meaningless. All that you do now…the computer in your lap, the phone in your pocket, the router which is your window to the Web … all that, every bit of it, was built upon what was done then. It was pioneering. It was adventure. It was the foundation of your electronic, digital, virtual world.

As such, it is vital. Without it, where would you stand?