My Junk Drawer.

Last November, though I didn't really need a new computer, I decided to get a new computer.

As a person interested in tech, I had read fairly gushy reviews about Apple's new chips and their speed and capacity made me interested. What's more, though my 2012 Mac with a solid state hard-drive is blazing fast and had two-terabytes of memory, and my 2018 Mac (a parting "gift" from Ogilvy) was also in good trim, I wanted the latest.

Just as it wouldn't do for a salesman to be driving to sales calls in a 1962 Studebaker Lark, it doesn't look good for an advertising professional to have out-dated tools. I remember Pytka making a big baroque deal about a special set of lenses he had. I don't really know what was special about them if anything, but certainly the pretense had its effect. A bit like having your own custom-made two-piece cue stick.

I purposely get as large a hard-drive as I can when I get a new computer. And while I back things up daily on more different clouds than are currently wafting over Scotland, you can never have too much storage.

Two terabytes (2TB) I've found out, is enough space for the following:

If you know me, you know I take calculus like the above as a challenge.

My business and my skill are on my computer, and I'm going to use every byte of my 2TB.

So, I cart around a 64-page auction catalog of stuff owned by Paul Rand before he died. I have thousands of files of things I like, books I want to read, strings I might want to someday pull.

I have a 29-page list of URLS from various sites of complicated things explained simply.

Sometimes, in fact, I feel a little like one of those homeless guys I used to see on the Upper West Side when I was a boy who would write crazy galaxies of random numbers on greasy old paper bags.

Oddly enough though, especially when I so often work without benefit of a partner, these things help me. They unstuck me when I'm caught in a mental log jam.

Just now, by the way, I came across a book called "Charles & Ray: Designers at Play." About Charles and Ray Eames. I quickly ordered it both in hardcover and Kindle. Together, they cost about the price of a small salad at Dean & DeLuca. 

I quickly copied the book onto a word doc and made a reduced-sized PDF of it. I'm a little crazy that way.

Then just a minute ago, someone I hardly know pointed me in the direction of this book.

I like reference.

There's a good chance I'll never use that reference. There's a slightly less good chance I'll forget all about it. But I have it, and just maybe it will come in handy and illuminate the dark corners of an idea someday.

There's so much great stuff in the world. And advertising people and clients are looking to stock and A.I. to do things rather than working to make people think and smile. And actually like a brand.

That's the triumph of bland over brand.

Here's the thing.

I can out Collyer the Collyer's.

I'll run out of ideas and stimulus before the world runs out of storage.

That might not be true. But I'll save it anyway.