I’ve been spending a lot of intimate time with boxes of old notebooks and files.  The other day, I found a piece of petrified red licorice, complete with its own mini dust bunny. I offered it to several people but nobody wanted to claim it. I don’t often find anything out of the ordinary, so anything different breaks up the monotony.

Yesterday, I found a box marked “Coffee Creek Estates”.  Inside the box I uncovered old drawings. I found meeting notes, memos, drawings and the usual suspects when a company looks to put together a new development. Three blank CDs floated to the surface.

“Why don’t people label CDs?” I grumbled to myself.  “Do they think people will discover the secret of the universe and try to steal it?  Why is it so hard to bust out a Sharpie and define the thing?”

See, I’m obligated to put each disk into my computer and open it. I always say a silent prayer that I won’t discover anything…compromising. Most of the time, it’s only PDFs of drawings or technical memorandums.

The first disk was completely blank. Mystery solved.  The second disk had files on it, but the software used to create the original historical documents was outdated.  The software on my computer, years in the future, couldn’t recognize it or open it. The disk hummed in the drive, turning around and around, going nowhere.  I popped it out and tossed it.

I held up the third disk, a bright green shade.  It slid easily into the case.

“A-B-C…easy as 1-2-3…”

I’d recognize that voice anywhere.  A very young Michael Jackson over The Jackson 5 era crooned out of my machine.

I started laughing. Somebody was missing their choices tunes.

I clicked through the rest of the tracks.  The CD contained a mix of old school rap and funk, with a Switchfoot track thrown in.

I had to thank God for breaking up the tedium.  It’s a good reminder to look at life as a treasure hunt, full of unexpected twists and turns. You never know what you might find in the next box you open.

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