When I was a pre-teen, I collected autographed photos of movie stars, such as Rita Hayworth, Judy Garland, Cary Grant and James Stewart. I ordered them from movie studios. I’m pretty sure they were free.
Our younger son Jeremy collected TV guides—those sections that used to come with Sunday newspapers. (Remember?) Every time someone I knew traveled, I would ask them to pick up a Sunday newspaper and bring back its TV guide, so Jeremy had TV guides from all over the world. When we moved out of the house he grew up in, there was no Craig’s List or E-bay that we could use to offer them to the world so he reluctantly (and we happily) recycled four computer paper boxes full of them.
Jeremy and his older brother Seth both collected soft drink bottle caps, the kind you used a “church” key to open. I particularly remember one time in the Atlanta airport when our connecting plane was delayed. The boys, who ordinarily would have been bored, had the chance to look for bottle caps on the floors of the Atlanta airport because there were so many they didn’t already have. (Bottling plants were local then.)
The other night, when Seth texted from the Atlanta airport where he was waiting for a connection to Rio, I asked him if he was looking for bottle caps. I was surprised when he replied that he had no idea what I was talking about.
I still can’t get over it.