Dr. Barton Goldsmith: Treasures in the attic

The search began immediately. Had this been a year ago, I would have known right where it was. But after moving, a whole lot of stuff is still boxed up. I had an idea where my collectibles were stashed, so I went into the attic closet and started searching — thank God I put in some track lighting. I must have gone through every box and Jiffy bag at least twice, because it had to be here, right next to a mini sculpture of Yoda and the candles from my last big birthday. I found so much stuff I had collected, it brought back many fond memories, but no phaser, and by 2:30 in the morning, I was done and seeing double.

The next day, I actually went through the attic boxes again, but this time pulled out a few of the things that brought back happy memories. My dad’s amber cigar holder in its little leather box was cool, and so was the small jade elephant my auntie gave me one year. The search for my “found money” opened me up to finding things I have valued over the years, some of which has seriously changed. Old memories can be a little harder to recall these days, and discovering old treasured objects more than once brought up the question, “Who gave this to me?” Then, after remembering, it did bring a smile to my face.

I found that a lot of things now seem so much more valuable in a different way. The sentimental chords were struck, and the search turned into seeing a timeline of my life, showing what I was doing, whom I was hanging out with, what my goals were and where I am now compared to then. I was no longer unpacking, I was reminiscing, and it was a positive experience that lasted well into the next day of phaser hunting.

There was yet another closet, one that was filled with many boxes of books from my old library, which had been stocked with books I’d used for research and other work-related memorabilia. That was the same room the phaser had been in. When I opened the closet door, I was looking at a few dozen book boxes, which was kind of overwhelming, but the force was with me (yes, I know that’s from "Star Wars"), and my search continued.

I started with boxes that seemed less heavy — perhaps not filled with books — and, lo and behold, found one that was filled with yet more of my “collection” items. While sitting on the floor, I opened every bag or smaller box that was contained in that carton. This time, I actually pulled out more things to look at and put on display. By the time I got to the bottom, I was somewhat disheartened — just three Jiffy bags to go — and then, with the logic of Spock, I put my hand on one of the last wrapped bags, and my Vulcan senses became filled with emotion. Yes, I had found the treasured item. I was so happy with the result that first I showed it off to a couple of friends and then found myself on Google for several hours. Now I have to take it to the Beard of Knowledge or William Shatner and have it deemed authentic.

If it’s real, I am going to sell it and use the money to build another library. It will go nicely with my house, which after almost a year has become a home, after a weekend of putting away my treasures and blending my past with my present.