George Carlin warned us about “God damn stuff.” What he failed to mention is that the stuff fights back by capturing your attention and diverting you from watching TV or reading social media. Buried in my stuff was a 1950 manual dedicated to teaching young women their divine purpose on Earth.

It taught the weaker sex about things like:

• managing efficient kitchens;
• dishwashing;
• care of the garbage-can, refrigerators, coolers, and stoves (gas, electric, or coal);
• pasteurizing milk;
• care of the bread-box and milk bottles;
• cleaning silver, copper, brass, granite, aluminum, nickel, tin, etc.

But this book instructs on other old favourites:

• meal planning and table service;
• preserving foods;
• filling lunch boxes;
• cleaning floors and windows and caring for furniture;
• how to remove stains, launder, starch, iron, and fold.

The book is full of recipes and has advice on feeding people of all ages, including infants and “invalids.” It also reminds us that everyone should be hydrated:

Use water externally, internally, and eternally.

But that valuable book is not the only thing found today. I suspect number one son hung around the Pacific Coliseum and gathered the signatures of several professionals kind enough to please an adolescent who might have been dreaming of reaching the NHL himself.

The youngster went on to be a teacher, not a pro hockey player. One scout said he was “too nice” when he was on the ice. Mom and Dad thought that was okay.

George Carlin met his maker too soon. But his words remain. This is one of my favourite bits: