I remember growing up that our Maternal Grandmother Ollie was always harping on us about saving things and not wasting ANYTHING! The main thing she always said to us, especially if we were wasting anything was, “Waste not, want not”.  The main 2 things I recall that she emphasized were soap and paper. In later life I figured that the strong aversion to waste of any sort was because she lived through the Great Depression (Hmmm, sounds like me when ever I was at the office). The other main adage was, “The things of today are the antiques of tomorrow”.  I shall focus on the latter from my present perspective some 45 plus years later. It’s interesting that the older I get, the more of a “pack rat” I am becoming. I guess this attribute comes with age and/or FINALLY heeding my Grandmother’s advice via of a “flashback” and FINALLY having it sink in. As part of my prolific reading habit, I have scrutinized several antique guides over the years and have found that the “junk” we used to throw away and kick around when we were kids are in some cases worth a lot of money today. Rich Yuppies with more money than common sense are willing to pay BIG money for all that junk from the 50’s and 60’s we had laying around in those days. I figure I could have been a millionaire by now if I had kept all that “junk”!  Back in the 80’s I did have ONE flashback and had my Grandmother’s early advice in mind. When Rubik’s Cube was all the rage, I bought an extra one and stashed it away unopened. I figured it would be worth a fortune “someday”. The only problem is that NOW I can’t find it! I think one example of how we ignored our Grandmother’s wise advice will be sufficient at this point. We received several items over the years from our Paternal Grandmother “Arlie”, which were lying around in the attic from our Uncle Dave. Along with his old 16, 33 1/3, 45, and 78 record player, we also got ALL of his old 45 record and LP collection! In this collection were several ORIGINAL recordings of Elvis, Doo Wop groups, and most other 50’s groups! Tim and I had many hours of fun playing all the 45’s and LP’s! The record player was really “cool” because it had and “automatic” 45 changer! We could stack a whole pile of 45’s or by removing the 45 adapter/changer; we could play a whole pile of 33’s too! When the current record was finished, the arm would go back and another record would flop down and it would play it and so on! We thought this was really cool. Of course at times we played 45 and 33 records in the fast 78 speed so everyone “sounded like the chipmunks”! After several months we eventually had grown bored playing the same old “classic” records. One day either Tim or myself (I’d like to think it was ALL Tim’s idea), decided to grab THE WHOLE pile of records and go out to the field and have a skeet shoot! We grabbed our 410 and double barrel 12-gauge shotgun and headed out to the field bearing a few boxes of ammo and the entire record collection! We had a blast shooting ALL the records, while we would take turns throwing each record up in the air like a Frisbee! To this day I shudder to think how much those records would be worth today. In the past I’ve acquired “antique” books and have checked a few prices on a few  of the records we used as skeet. I emphasize a few because it became readily very disconcerting to see what just a few titles would be worth today! It at times like this that the old Pennsylvania Dutch saying comes to mind: “Too soon old and too late smart”!  Speaking of the “field”, we did most of our “skeet” and target shooting in the field immediately north of the house and it is strewn with artifacts we still find almost every spring after plowing. I used to have an “Invisible Man” and a “life-sized skull” with a removable rubber brain that was in 5 pieces. There were 4 lobes and the medulla, which fit into the bottom (I think I had shown a brief interest as a kid in becoming a doctor). One spring Tim had a paper bag and he said he found something in the field and wanted me to identify it by feel only. The only hint he gave me was that it had gotten hard over the years. After putting my hand into the bag and feeling it for just a few seconds, I boldly stated, “A piece of brain” (having recalled this felt like one of the lobes that came from the “life-sized skull”). I’ll never forget Tim’s astonished reaction! Every now and then I exclaim to Tim, “A piece of skull”, and he just wags his head in amazement at my uncanny recollection! Hey, to me it was “Just another day”!