Time Capsule
Oak Hardwood Flooring from Bruce Hall's "Bowling Alley"
More about Bruce Hall's "Bowling Alley" and my own personal slice.
As many of you know, I once buried a time capsule. Then I opened it — 25 years later. This is a series of posts, where I’ll share the story behind this personal time capsule, its contents, and some of its curators.
Time Capsule
More about Bruce Hall's "Bowling Alley" and my own personal slice.
Time Capsule
Where we find out which lasts longer: synthetic fabric or my college education?
Time Capsule
A little about my former next-door neighbor and his tragic loss.
Time Capsule
One of the jetpacks we were promised was the easy availability of CD-R drives during my college years. As the ability to cheaply preserve massive amounts dovetailed with the growing popularity of other consumer-friendly technology such as digital photography & music, it became beyond easy to accumulate a rich media
Time Capsule
While playing soccer with my club team “The Mama’s Boys”, a curious car drove up to one of our pre-games. It was a speck of a vehicle, topped with a giant faux can of Red Bull. Out jumped a hottie who asked if we’d care to indulge in
Time Capsule
Here’s the first of many surprises I’d forgotten interning within my time capsule. In the summer of 1992, as I headed to college after graduating high school, my brother’s godmother gifted me an United States Treasury savings bond. Specifically it was a Series EE note, designed to
Time Capsule
When I was a kid, my parents started doling out various family heirlooms to me and my brother. I don’t recall what they gave me, but I remember feeling screwed over because he inherited my dad’s coin collection. As a history buff, I love tangible connections to our
Time Capsule
Towards the end of college, I discovered a passion for soccer. While I was never physically-gifted, I had tons of hustle and developed a decent “soccer sense” over the years. I even joined a club team named the Mama’s Boys, which played in the North Texas Premiere Soccer Association.
Time Capsule
My time capsule’s shell is a metal cash box, the kind one uses to hold the change from garage & bake sales, with a standard cylinder lock & key. Once shiny & nickel-plated, the key has since worn down to its brass core (just like me). None of this
Time Capsule
After cutting thru the seal of vinyl stickers, I took a deep breath and opened the lid. I first noticed some expected things, such as the centerpiece journal and my tin of Spam. I was also surprised by things I’d forgotten, like a Koosh ball and can of Red
Time Capsule
A vellum envelope was affixed to the outside of the time capsule. For the lucky individual who discovered it were two things inside: * A note requesting the time capsule be left unmolested & restored to its original location; and * Another envelope, this one self-addressed & stamped, which they could use
Time Capsule
As many of you know, I once buried a time capsule. And this past month, I opened it — 25 years later. This is the first in a series of posts, where I’ll share the story behind this personal time capsule, its contents, and some of its curators. The original
Time Capsule
Everything was loaded in my truck Kilgore. I returned to my vacant apartment to perform one last survey and ensure that I didn’t forget anything before hitting the road to Austin, my next in a long string of hometowns. Just as I thought, nothing remained — except for my time