Soviet Kitsch

One of my goals for my (temporary?) unemployment period was to finally get the moonbase a little more organized.  This project started ambitiously enough.  I spent the first week taking all my records down from their shelves.  Then I spread them all out on the floor of the largest cargo bay and spent most of August trying out different cataloging systems: alphabetical (by artist), chronological, thematic, philosophical, reverse chronological, alphabetical (by title), by genre, by run time, by record label, by album sleeve color, Dewey decimal, folksonomic, analytico-synthetic, and alphabetical (by feeling).

I have yet to decide on a cataloging system.

These last couple of weeks I've spent a lot of time wandering the moonbase corridors, digging out various odds and ends: galactic bric-à-brac I've accumulated in my time on the Lost Moon, keepsakes from Earth I brought up in my rocket, etc.

Yesterday, in a broom closet under the starboard solar array, I found a shoebox containing a handful of postcards from my old broadcasting buddy Graham Fernwood.  Graham had done the news and weather reports at KTSH for a few years before I got a job at the station.   By the time I was introduced to him, however, he was mostly living in Munich, working for Radio Free Europe, sneaking the U.S. government's feel-good message about democracy and capitalism under the ol' Iron Curtain.  He and I only met a couple of times, but we hit it off.  (I used to ask him if he could hook my show up with any secret CIA funding.)