A Marble Cutting Board

About two weeks ago. A marble cutting board. It just made a most successful debut in JB's kitchen. Soup, anyone?

Thanks, grey box.

(Yes. I'm back.)

A Fishbowl

Two days ago. A fishbowl. A nice one. OK, so time to get a fish. I'm sure I'll have lots of time to do that soon what with the Christmas shopping. The fishbowl may have to wait, empty, gleaming, til 2008.

Thanks, grey box.

A Drafting Table

OK, so just before posting about the kitchen table, I went down the basement to do some laundry, and now I'm seriously unsettled. Sometime in the past two hours (i.e. since I got home from watching the game) left in the grey area not one, but two, items that I've seen there, and blogged about, before: the paper shredder and the drafting table. The thing with the paper shredder is that it's one of the few things that I've taken from the grey box and then returned to the grey box, which is obviously what someone else just did, too. Is there something wrong with it (I never actually used it, which is why I returned it)? Or did whoever took it and returned it just suddenly realize, like I did, that who needs a paper shredder that shreds one sheet of paper at a time? (Seriously, if those of us living in this building lived the kinds of lives where we were dealing with documents that we needed to shred for peace of mind, we wouldn't be renting in a building in which we needed to rely on the welfare of a fucking grey box that paper shredders that shred one sheet of paper at a time are left in, in the first place, right?) The thing about the drafting table is that when I first saw it, so many, many months ago, I wanted to take it not for me, but for a friend, but in the time it took me to play one game of squash someone beat me to it - someone who's obviously had enough of it (and, apparently, a paper shredder). Just like in life, you don't get too many second chances when it comes to the grey box, and so I've just lugged the fucking thing up here. I'll figure out what to do with it some other time. Thanks, grey box.

The bigger issue: did whoever left the paper shredder and the drafting table leave them as a sign that they've somehow found out about this blog and are following it? If this is the case, then whoever who are, can you leave a flatscreen HDTV for me as another sign?

Actually, this (hypothesis of someone using the grey box to communicate with someone else) reminds me of the time a table top was left beside the grey box, with a few legs bundled up beside it, which were taken, after which whoever took them a few days later left a handwritten note taped to the very lid of the grey box that said something like "whoever left the table top and the few legs bundled up, can you leave the other legs, too", which note someone else wrote on something like "um, I think they've moved out" after which the tabletop and the few legs bundled up were never seen from again, meaning either the person who took them found some more legs, or just kept or secretly disposed of the tabletop and the few legs bundled up, perhaps to save face, or perhaps just keeping the faith that eventually the other legs would appear. When it comes to the grey box there are worse things you can do than just keeping the faith.

A Kitchen Table

Maybe a month ago? A kitchen table. I don't even need to reach for words like "linoleum"and "upholstered", and phrases like "50s diner" and "rouge fleurs (of sorts)", because these pictures are worth thousands of words:

This may be the best thing I've found in the grey box, even better than the IBM Thinkpad T21 laptop computer I'm blogging on right now, and perhaps the one thing from the grey box that I end up keeping my entire life. I'm not even fucking kidding. I love this kitchen table. I love it. Thank you so much, grey box. Thank you so much.

A Desk Lamp

About two weeks ago. A desk lamp, a quite cool one, I think, pink, with a handy height adjustment feature that if you don't use it gives it a very, for lame lack of a more specific word, "designer" feel. (Any help here, AT?) If this lamp were any other colour, I'd keep it, which isn't to say that I have a problem with pink, as my favourite shirt I own is pink (I paid $5 for it in the summer at a yard sale a few blocks away, which is $5 more than I'm used to paying for clothes I just happen upon in this here the West End). But I happen to know of a young woman, who may or may not read this blog, who wants a lamp for Christmas, who I'm going to give it to. Unless you reading this want to make a case for it for yourself ... Honestly, I wish I'd thought of looking for Christmas presents From The Grey Box (TM) much earlier in the year. Would this have made me just clever, or just cheap, or both? The answer is: an bozo. True story: I meant to type "a bozo", which would have been the joke right there, i.e. neither clever nor cheap, really, but really, "an bozo" gets the point across so much better than I ever could have hoped that there it is. Thanks, grey box.

* I forgot to mention that whoever left this in the grey box did so knowing full well that the little metal thread that you screw the light bulb into was all bent out of shape. I managed to fix with with a pair of pliers. But still. The grey box is where you leave stuff you no longer want for other people who want it. It's not a place to leave broken stuff. I wonder if the same person who left this is the same person who done left the iPod shuffle that didn't work. A little respect for the grey box, please.

Life Coach In A Box

This weekend. "Life Coach In A Box: A Motivational Kit for Making the Most Out of Life" by Carol Stanton. Ya, this'll solve one's problems. Think there's a card in it that tells one what to do when the leading causes of stress in one's life are even the *thoughts* of things that are supposed to help one *cope* with stress i.e. time with family, time with friends, eating, drinking, sex, etc ... ? What about looming financial disaster, paralyzing career anxiety, dashed artistic dreams and the fundamental connections between all three ... ? Please. I need a little more to work with here than help in a box, from a box.

For the first time ever: no thanks, grey box. LCIAB: AMKFMTMOOL goes back in the grey box as soon as I get home tonight.

Wow. What a depressing post. Hmmm. Must be late November.

* Update: I haven't put back LCIAB in the grey box yet. The grey box works in mysterious ways and I've concluded that I should give Carol Stanton a chance. Who knows - maybe there are just the right cards therein for the aforementioned financial, career and artistic stresses, which funny thing don't seem so overwhelming after a good night's sleep, a decent breakfast, a run in the sunshine and two cheques arriving in the mail. So thanks, grey box, and please forgive me for my lack of faith as well as gratitude for everything you've provided.

Kitchenware

Over the past two months. Kitchenware, including some nice salt and pepper shakers from Pier One Imports, a fine kitchen knife from Farberware, and a salad dryer from ... well, from the grey box (it doesn't say on it, the salad dyer, where it's from). All of you reading this know what a salad dryer is, yes? It's a little plastic tub within a plastic tub you put your wet salad in and then you spin the knob on top that spins the salad around inside til it's dry. Drying salad without a salad dryer would be like slicing cheese without a cheese plane i.e. I don't know how you'd do it otherwise as they're all I've ever known as far as dealing with wet lettuce and unsliced cheese. I love cheese planes. And I love salad dryers. The truth is I hadn't made a salad in decades until I got this salad dryer i.e. I haven't had a salad dryer til now. (Good thing I've had a cheese plane all my adult life, otherwise - no cheese in my adult life.) Drying lettuce in this salad dryer brought back memories from my childhood of ... well, drying lettuce in a salad dryer. The point besides these reflections on my arrested development is that I used all of these kitchenware this evening to make the Soup O' The Week (vegetable this week), and as a footnote the fine kitchen knife and the salad dryer are now drying in a dish rack I got from the grey box sometime over the past two months, too. Thanks, grey box.

All for now, except to say that the previously promised slight broadening of scope of the scope of this blog coming soon. It'll be worth the wait.

A(nother) Bookshelf

Last week. A(nother) bookshelf, birch, just two shelves, low, lengthy. Exactly what I was looking for to use as a divider (as such) in my apartment, separating my bed from my desk, to create the illusion of a bedroom. I've put two small plants on top of it to heighten the effect. So far, so good. Thanks, grey box.

* A note to those few loyal From The Grey Box readers that are out there: the grey box has been pretty empty as of late, and my life has been pretty full, which I'm hoping this will explain the month that's gone by since the last post. Stay tuned, or bookmarked, or RSS fed, or whatever it is that one does to stay abreast of changes to their favourite blogs, for more regular updates, as well as a slight broadening of the scope of this project. Thanks, loyal From The Grey Box readers, for your patience.

A Six Foot Tall Lamp

The other day. A six foot tall lamp. (Yes, it's right next to the seven foot tall plant, which is how I know how tall it is.) It's nice. Really nice. Quite a few years ago my uncle gave me a six foot tall lamp, but it's gotten a bit beat up in the past few moves, and I've been looking for a new one from the grey box for quite some time, and lo ... Here's the thing about it (the new one), though. It didn't come from the grey box, or even from beside the grey box. I got it before it even *got to* the grey box. How it all went down was that as I was unlocking my apartment door, the attractive girl down the hall came out of her apartment with a six foot tall lamp. "Nice lamp," I said. And I wasn't even flirting. I really did like the lamp. I also had a gut feeling that she was going to be leaving it you know where. And sure enough she said she was taking it to the grey box but if I wanted it I could have it right then and there. And sure enough I took it. One guess as to where I left my own, older six foot tall lamp later that night. It was gone within the hour. Whoever took it never knew that they just missed out on a better one. But this way two people got new lamps. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: the grey box works. It just does. Thanks, grey box.

Back to the attractive girl down the hall. When we parted ways she told me she was having a party that night and that she hoped I wouldn't mind the noise. I said I wouldn't mind as long as I could attend said party. (I admit that *that* was flirting, which surprised me, that I was flirting, as I haven't flirted at all in awhile, and besides which as I rule I don't date women who live in the same building as I do - even when I meet them on Lavalife - a true story, that one.) When I got home later that night the party was sufficiently fun-sounding enough that my landlord was lurking in the hallway looking a little upset, but I was just too tired to go over, and I was getting up at five the next morning to go and shoot, so I just kicked back on my couch, under the soft light of my new six foot tall lamp, looking at an apartment's worth of stuff from the grey box, listening to what sounded like at least one girl gone wild, thinking about my hectic and yet free life, and also about the girlcott, and when exactly I'm going to break it.

Tools

Over the past few months. Tools, including a multihead screwdriver, a ball-peen hammer and an antique hacksaw with an ancient Woodward's sticker on it. It took me forever to remove it (the Woodwards sticker). After I finally scraped away the last of it, I wondered why the hell I wanted to remove it in the first place. Oh, that's right - OCD. I mean the sticker was probably worth more than the hacksaw itself. Not that I actually need any tools to do any work around the apartment - that's what the landlord's for. Look, as long as I'm renting (and it's going to be for a long time) I might as well take advantage of the landlord. Plus think of all the money I'm saving getting my tools from the grey box, money that I put can put aside for a down payment for my own place, a place in which I may actually use the tools. Thanks, grey box.

By the way - is anyone going to tell me what the hell the seven foot tall plant is already? Didn't the pictures help? I really don't like living with lifeforms that I don't know what they are.

* I forgot about the little glue gun I got from the grey box almost a year ago. I've used it exactly never. It may be time to return it to the grey box (I refer here to the dustbuster / portable paper shredder precedent of June 2007).

A Shoulder Bag

Maybe six months ago ... ? A shoulder bag. A really nice one, actually, silver, brand name Jeremy, made in Australia. I haven't used it, ever, and I was considering putting it back in the grey box, but my Studio B shoulder bag is finally wearing right out, and so it may be time to phase it out, and phase Jeremy in. (By the way, Studio B's site has maybe the funniest FX of any website I know of. I miss working for them. That was maybe the best I've ever been paid for the most fun work I've ever done.) Thanks, grey box.

A Seven Foot Tall Plant

Last weekend. A seven foot tall plant. (Thanks to one Pat and one Ezra for helping me get it up to my apartment in the Slowest Elevator In The West End.) I don't exactly know what kind of plant it is. All I know is that it's basically just one really long thick cactus-like trunk covered with thorns and adorned at the top with a few dozen small and yet substantial and yet kind of floppy leaves that hang a little like dreadlocks. Any ideas out there as to what kind of plant it might be? That's right - I'm addressing my audience. Look, I know for a fact at least a few of my friends check out this blog occasionally. I also know for a fact that at least one person I don't even really know checks out this blog occasionally (that would be my friend Liz's friend, to whom Liz introduced me as "the guy with the grey box blog" (I'm paraphrasing), which friend said he checked out my blog occasionally, which made him the first person I've met who's read my blog before actually meeting me, which I'm not sure what I think about this, can you tell I've been reading DFW lately). There's also Darren, who'll be happy to know that, if none of you can tell me what kind of plant I know own, I may actually post a photo on my blog for the first time (the photo of the grey box on the masthead notwithstanding - yes, that is an actual photo of *the* grey box).

The point is, there was a point in addressing you, my audience, aside from my deadly earnest entreaty for your help in identifying the species of the seven foot tall plant I know own, and that's to clarify something about the grey box. A few of you have asked how, for example, a two drawer legal filing cabinet or a coffee table could be left *in* a grey box. The fact is that the grey box isn't that big. I doubt if it's two feet by one foot by one foot. So, full disclosure: a lot of the things I take "From The Grey Box", I'm actually taking from the carpet laid out "Beside The Grey Box". To further complicate matters, my landlord has posted a sign in the basement asking tenants, when they clean out their storage lockers when they move, to leave anything that they don't want "In The Grey Area", by which she obviously means "In The Grey Box", or "Beside The Grey Box", which is not as (unintentionally) funny as "In The Grey Area". (To her credit, the area around the grey box actually is grey, although I think they grey box makes it seem much greyer than it actually is.)

So the real point is that "From The Grey Box" is just an expression. Moreover, it's too late to change the name of this blog to "Beside The Grey Box" or "In The Grey Area" (although the latter would be a good title for a blog about more than a few friend/lover distinctions from my 20s).

Actually, the real real point is that I love my new seven foot tall plant. It's got personality, the way it's posing there beside my bookshelf, looking out for itself, interested and yet indifferent. It's like having a pet, or a roommate, except it doesn't shed, like pets I've lived with, or kick me out of my own apartment so it can have sex its significant other, like roommates I've lived with. It gives me space. And I like my space.

Oh, shit. What am I doing? I don't have time to blog. I'm in pre-production!

Thanks, grey box.

* OK, OK, OK - due to popular demand, here are three pictures of the plant - the first three pictures I've ever posted on this blog - which I have to admit have given "From The Grey Box" some serious production value.

A Full Length Mirror

This afternoon. A full length mirror. Further to my last post, when I moved out of my last apartment, not only did I lose my EZ Curl Bar, but I also broke my full length mirror. Now, within only a couple of weeks, I have both back, and I can work out with the one in front of the other. The grey box works. It just does.

Thanks, grey box.

An EZ Curl Bar

Two weeks ago. (I've been busy.) An EZ Curl Bar. I've gotten a lot From The Grey Box this past year, but I've never been as shocked to find something therein as when I found this. The thing is, I used to have the very same EZ Curl Bar, but last year, when I was moving from my last West End apartment into my current West End apartment (a move of only a few blocks, across Denman Street, from East to West, that's had an immeasurable impact on my quality of life - surely I live in the best few blocks, if not actually on the best corner, in all of downtown Vancouver), it was taken from a third floor hallway in the time it took to me to unload an elevator's worth of my stuff on the ground floor. At the time I thought some bastard had stolen it, but I know more now than I did then about the economy of leaving and taking things in hallways, lanes and grey boxes in the West End, and in hindsight it's obvious to me that someone just thought it had been left in the third floor hallway for whoever wanted it. (Further to this, I often do my laundry and take out my recycling at the same time, which often means I'm leaving my laundry just outside the laundry room - i.e. right next to the grey box - and I often worry that someone's going to take my laundry in the time it takes to sort my recycling outside. What's even weirder is that increasingly more articles of my clothing are coming From The Grey Box, meaning someone could end up with their own clothes, smelling better or worse, depending.) (Also further to this, the end of the month is always the best time to check the grey box - when one's packing up all of one's belongings, it's a lot easier to leave stuff one don't want in the grey box than it is to Craigslist it.) The point is (if there is a point) is that it's only fitting that it's been a only a matter of time before an EZ Curl Bar (if not my EZ Curl Bar) ended up back in my hands, which hands are, two weeks later, connected to appreciably stronger wrists, forearms, biceps, triceps and pectorals. Honestly, sometimes I feel like buying anything at all is a waste of money. (My rent notwithstanding - there's a price to pay for living where I live, which price is of course mitigated by the grey box.) The Freegans know what they're fucking doing. I feel like I'm getting closer to taking a leap of faith to join them. The world could be my grey box. But for now, thanks, grey box, for continuing to amaze and inspire.

A Stefano Ricci Tie

Last week. A Stefano Ricci tie. It's almost as nice as the Hilary Radley tie I picked up earlier this year. Clearly someone in this building is getting rid of their nice Italian ties - one at a time. And as a direct result my collection of Italian ties is growing - one at a time. Thanks, grey box.

* At a recent film fest party, a lovely young woman in a nice dress felt up the Stefano Ricci tie while passing by and looked deep into my eyes and said "nice tie". I should have said "nice dress" and seen where that went, but the girlcott's dulled my edge, and so instead I just said "thanks" and watched her totter off onto the dance floor. Oh, well. If I ever see her again, I'll know exactly what to do.

More Books

Over the course of several months. More books, including Buried Alive: The Terrifying History Of Our Most Primal Fear by Jan Bondeson; The City Lights Poets Pocket Anthology ed. Lawrence Ferlinghetti; 26a: A Novel by Diana Evans; Autobiography Of Red by Anne Carson; Campo Santo by W.G. Sebald; What Happened This Summer by Paul Yee; A Complicated Kindness by Miriam Toews; and, last but not least - and just when you were thinking to yourself how literate everyone is in my building - a paperback edition of the Star Wars book Tales From The Mos Eisley Cantina. Yes, just what the literary world was asking for back in 1995 - one short story for every minor character that was in that one scene in the first Star Wars film (alright, fine, technically the fourth). I got it for my friend Scott, who doesn't read enough fiction, the consensus is. Look, he has to start somewhere. Although I'm certainly not one to judge - after all, I read a few of the Tales before I handed them off to Scott and I haven't exactly cracked Sebald's essays yet, have I, no, I haven't.

Um ... thanks, grey box.

A Japanese Abacus

This afternoon, coming home from work from Job #1 (which, strangely, today I went to after Job #2). A Japanese abacus. Also included: The Japanese Abacus: Its Use And Theory, by Takashi Kojima. I know, I know - I need an abacus like I need a butterfly net. But it really is a thing of beauty. And unlike a certain iPod shuffle, it actually works. Thanks, grey box.

A Butterfly Net

Tonight, on the way home from the beach, where I wrote in a nice journal that Elin gave me, thereby working out solutions to pretty much every problem in my life right now, it's just that simple, and where was I? Right. A butterfly net. Yes, a butterfly net, from China (says the sticker), nothing more and nothing less than a fine nylon bag at the end of a five foot long bamboo pole painted blue. Just one of those things one never knows one needed til one finds it in the grey box. It's so much cooler than an iPod Shuffle, it's not even funny. It's made me happy.

Thanks, grey box. Sincerest thanks.

* It's official: I'm now using this thing more than anything else I've ever gotten from the grey box (with the exception of the laptop I'm writing this on right now). Not to catch butterflies, though. Rather, to catch summer bugs flying in my open windows and whirring their ways 'round my apartment. I'm not all about the killing anymore. I'm all about the catch and release.

Two Small Plants

On the weekend. Two small plants. They're not in the best shape, but I've done some clipping and now they're happily angling for as much sunshine as they can get it my small apartment (and that's a lot of sun that shines in here). It's a jungle in here! BAAAHHHAAA!

This (the plants, the braying laughing) reminds of me the apartment warming party I threw at around this time last year. It was a fireworks night down here in the very west end of the West End, which means that most of Surrey was sitting on my front lawn. I asked everyone to bring plants. (My friends that I invited to the party, not most of Surrey.) The thing is, not that many of my friends actually showed up, and of them, only Sarah Jane brought a plant, which I put next to another plant that the very same Sarah Jane happened to have given me a month earlier. The point is, I now have more than two plants, and it's about fucking time. Thanks, Sarah Jane, by the way. And thanks, grey box.

An iPod Shuffle

This morning, on my way to an office I'm working at right now. An iPod Shuffle. Please excuse me while my silhouette dances.

Ah, who am I kidding - I don't need an iPod shuffle. But I do need to be able to hear later in life. Besides, I'm a PC, not a Mac. (Memo #1 to Justin Long: fuck off. Memo #2 to JL: OK, so you were alright in Live Free Or Die Hard. But please, enough with the Mac ads. Please.) I think I'm going to return it when I get home. Thanks, but no thanks, grey box.

* Update - OK, OK, OK - I kept the iPod Shuffle. I'll probably end up giving it to one of you, you who've been harassing me about returning something so fucking cool. But I may just keep it for myself and not use it.

** Update - The iPod Shuffle doesn't work! That's deeply unethical, leaving something in the grey box that doesn't work. Where do you get iPod Shuffles fixed? Can you even get iPod Shuffles fixed? It'll probably be cheaper to buy a new one - and as you know, I don't buy anything! FFS.

A 2 Drawer Legal Filing Cabinet

Tonight, coming home from a screening of a short film of mine. A 2 drawer legal filing cabinet. A "grey box", of sorts, from the grey box. Exactly what I need for the office I'm looking for (we'll see what this place is like tomorrow). My friend Laura gave me a 2 drawer legal filing cabinet about a month ago. This one's even better. Thanks, though, Laura. And thanks, as always, grey box.

A 26” Vertical Pullman With Suiter System From Eddie Bauer

Maybe ... seven months ago? A 26” Vertical Pullman With Suiter System from Eddie Bauer. Or, in other words, a really fucking nice piece of luggage. (I mean, "Vertical Pullman"? Really, Eddie? If I wanted a Pullman, I'd rent "Lost Highway". That, or just read my all-time fave piece of film journalism, by DFW - which in turn would prob. inspire me to read my all-time fave piece of sports journalism - also by DFW. But I digress. I've always wanted to say that. But I digress. (That wasn't me saying it again - that was me digressing again.))

What a shock - today I got another invite from another friend to join Facebook. (No matter annoying that little red line under it is, I'm refusing to add "Facebook" to my Firefox dictionary, either.) Too bad it's evil. Just the thought of joining Facebook makes me feel incredibly anxious. Unfortunately there's only one thing more angst-inducing than going on Facebook. And that's not going on Facebook. So it's probably only a matter of time. Hey, I didn't say I didn't have issues. I probably need a fucking vacation. At least I have just the kick ass suitcase for the occasion. Thanks, grey box.

A Dustbuster, A Portable Paper Shredder

Four or five months ago. A Dustbuster. I've used it once. If I don't use it again soon, it'll go back into the grey box - just like the portable paper shredder I returned last month. I didn't use that thing once. I wonder what people think when they see something they left in the grey box, back in the grey box, sometimes months later. I know that if I say something I left in the grey box, back in the grey box, I'd have hurt feelings. But then again, I'm an HSP. Maybe others in my building aren't so sensitive (e.g. whoever it was who stole the front wheel from my bike while it was locked up in my building's garage - I just know that was an inside job, and I just know that whoever pulled off the heist wasn't a sensitive motherfucker).

So thanks - but no thanks - grey box.

Fuck. I'm cleaning out a file box right now, and I just found something I'd like to shred. I'm not even kidding here. This is real time, people. This is the fucking flow. Oh, well - into the recycling box go these invoices I don't need anymore.

A Wallet

About seven or eight months ago. A wallet. A leather one. Sorry, James Rachels. But thanks, grey box.

A Small Sony TV Stand

A few nights ago. A small Sony TV stand. Perfect for my small television, my small VCR/DVD combo player and my small tuner, in my small apartment, for my small life ... This is a primo example of something I've been holding off on buying lest it turn up in the grey box. And lo. Thanks, grey box!

Yesterday morning I was shocked - shocked - to find a brand new drafting table sitting by the grey box. It was a gleaming thing of beauty. Now I don't need a drafting table, but I have a few friends who wouldn't say no to one. The thing was that I was on my way out to play squash, so I couldn't claim it. When I got back home a few hours later, it was gone. Sorry, friends.

Speaking of friends, my friend Jenn has suggested I start another blog: "Left In The Grey Box". One blog at a time, people. One blog at a time. This one's stressing me out enough as it is.

Some Ikea Montera

Tonight. Coming home from the first swim in the ocean of the year. Some Ikea Montera. 2.5m of it. Thanks, grey box ... I think.

* Update - OK, I actually used this shit to bundle my all the cables in my "home entertainment system" (the quotes tell you all you need to know about exactly how high-quality it is - what can I say - I'm waiting for a nicer TV and a nicer components From The Grey Box - my speakers are alright, although).

A Coffee Maker, A Set Of Frying Pans, A Set Of Baking Pans, Jeans (My Size), Nice Placemats, Nice Plates, Nice Bowls, Energy Efficient Lightbulbs ...

Two months ago. A coffee maker, a set of frying pans, a set of baking pans, jeans (my size), nice placemats, nice plates, nice bowls, energy efficient lightbulbs ... and an IBM Thinkpad T21 Laptop Computer. What can I say? The grey box provides.

Thanks, grey box.

An IBM Thinkpad T21 Laptop Computer

About two months ago. An IBM Thinkpad T21 laptop computer. It sold new for $3699 USD back in 2001, and it's selling used for $225 USD on eBay today, but it's still far and away the best find in the grey box thus far. I found it one day when I was unexpectedly working from home, along with a lot of other high quality items - it looked to me like someone was moving in with someone else and getting rid of a lot of their older - but still high quality - stuff. (That was a great day in the history of the grey box - see above.) I had to go pick up a power supply and a wireless card from the lunatics out at Cal's Computer Warehouse, which set me back about $50, and I had to spend a couple of hours on the phone to Windows (making up a very sad story about an ex-girlfriend leaving town and bequeathing to me the laptop, but not the correct Windows product key - the sixth operator I told the tale to finally broke down and just gave me a number so I could active the fucking thing) but, all in all, that's not too steep a price to pay for a classic like the T21. And now I can sell my PC. Anyone out there want it?

Many thanks, grey box. Many thanks.

An Opera Guide, A Concert Guide

Tonight, coming home from drinks at Chill Winston, and before (maybe) hitting a show at the Railway Club. (No, I didn't come home just to see if there was anything in the grey box.) A paperback "Opera Guide" and a paperback "Concert Guide", both by Gerhart von Westerman, in a nice slipcase. Just my kind of reading material. Nice.

Thanks, grey box.

Glassware

Over the past year. Glassware. A lot of it, including: wine glasses; martini glasses; champagne flutes; and (last night) brandy glasses - real crystal! This isn't even counting the set of smiley face cups, or the Refrigeration Service Engineers' Society mug (for the good reason that mugs aren't made of glass). The RSES's logo: "Better Service Through Knowledge" (a good logo for any company, really). You know, if the RSES has their own fucking website, I sure as hell should have my own fucking website. And no, this blog doesn't count - not for shit. I'll get to that - creating my own website - as soon as I've thrown a party that enough people attend to justify owning so much glassware. I mean the brandy glasses are nice - real nice - real crystal! - but let's face it: I don't drink brandy unless a homeless person leaves a bottle of it in my car.

Thanks, grey box.

A Hilary Radley Tie

Last night, coming home from a drink or two on the Drive with a certain S. A Hilary Radley tie. A nice orange and blue one. Easily worth more than the cost of all of my other ties combined. I've got just the shirt for it, too.

Thanks, grey box, for making me look good.

* Update: I wore this tie out the other night. All of my friends said it was the best tie they'd seen me in. Respect-O-Meter - up. I told them all I got it from the grey box. Respect-O-Meter - down. Oh, well. That's how I roll.

A Pair Of Binoculars

Tonight, while I was getting my laundry out of the dryer. (Yes, someone unloaded some stuff into the grey box in the time it took for one load of laundry to dry). A pair of binoculars, in a fine lambskin case. They're old, but they're not too big, and they're in fantastic shape. I just watched some HBO on the a big plasma screen TV in a fourth floor apartment across the street. Fuck, if it didn't look better than the same shows do on my tiny TV. (I've been waiting for a bigger and better TV to appear in the grey box area for quite some time now. It'll happen eventually, and FTGB readers will be the first to know.)

OK, I just watched someone in another apartment across the street fight with someone on the phone. How the hell have I lived in the West End this long without a pair of binoculars? Here's hoping this blog doesn't evolve from "From The Grey Box" into "From the Binocular Point Of View Of JB".

Thanks, grey box!

Quite A Few Records

Tonight, while moving my laundry from the washer to the dryer. Quite a few records. Classical music, mostly, and some fine recordings, too - Klemperer's Beethoven, Markevich's Wagner, Fricsay's Strauss and - a real collector's item - a Telemann recording from 1961 that marks one of the first-ever recordings on Deutsche Grammophon's period-instrument Archiv imprint. That's the one that I'm listening to right now, on my record player, which I got from my friend Tristan (for free), and eventually I'll set all of these records on one of my shelves (not the one I got for free from the grey box, but the one I got for free from Tristan, at the same time I got my record player) along with my two hundred or so other classical records (all of which I got from my friend Colin for free).

Reading this blog, you might be asking yourself: does this dude actually pay for anything? Hmmm. Let me get back to you on that one. In the meantime - thanks, grey box.

A Gun Lock

A few months ago. A gun lock from Project Childsafe. Here's an example of something I've taken from the grey box that I definitely don't need. But this just raises the question: who at all in the West End needs a gun lock? More to the point: who the fuck owns/owned a handgun - an unlocked handgun - in my building???

A Uniden EXV98 900MHz Digital Cordless Phone

About six months ago. A Uniden EXV98 900MHz Digital Cordless Phone. It's a fine piece of consumer electronics, if a little old. This was actually the third cordless phone I'd taken from the grey box, and the only one that worked in my apartment (I returned the other two). It (a cordless phone) was also the first household item that I made a conscious decision to hold off on buying until I found one for free in the grey box. The grey box provides. Thanks, grey box.

* Update - I recently got rid of my landline, so I returned this phone to the grey box. But then I realized I needed a phone just so that friends and lovers could call up to be let in to lobby, to either take the stairs or the Slowest Elevator In The West End, and so I got another, much sleeker and much more appropriate phone for that, from the grey box. Thanks grey box.

A Set Of Smiley Face Cups

Tonight, coming home from writing at a local cafe. A set of smiley face cups. Although it may seem like I take everything I see in the grey box, I actually leave a lot of stuff untouched (i.e. stuff I neither need nor want). For example, I gave everyone else in the building the whole weekend to claim the set of smiley face cups. But in the end just I couldn't resist taking them. My friend's kid will love them. I couldn't find any pictures online of them, but I did stumble upon the Smiley Store. Who knew?

Thanks, grey box.

A "Lazy Fish" Corkscrew

Last month. A" Lazy Fish" Corkscrew. I tested it out on a bottle of Peller Estates Riesling the other night and I have to say that it didn't perform as well as my old corkscrew. But then, my old corkscrew doesn't look nearly as cool. It's a keeper for now. Thanks, grey box.

Books, A Bookshelf

Over the past year. Hardcover editions of: "New Rules" by Bill Maher; "Skipping Toward Gomarrah" by Dan Savage; and the complete, three volume "Baroque Cycle" by Neil Stephenson. These aren't the only books I've seen in the grey box - there are a lot I haven't touched - nor the only books I've taken - a topic for another post - but I mention these three books because they're all books that I actually had on my list of books to buy, and so I was especially delighted to find them. They're all sitting nicely on my nice birch veneer "Billy" bookshelf fromIKEA - which I also found by the grey box, and which I lugged up to my apartment all by myself in the Slowest Elevator In The West End. Thanks, grey box.

A Coffee Table

Tonight, coming home from Kevin's birthday party at the beach. A low profile lightweight 70s style lacquered mahogany coffee table. You know, the kind with the little legs that angle out slightly? (I suppose I'm going to have to talk to one of my design scenester friends to help me give a more accurate description.) I've wanted a coffee table for awhile and this one actually goes well with my loveseat, which I got for free from Kevin (a different Kevin) a few years ago, after he moved out of our old apartment, where my brother now lives. I'm going to watch a DVD now and set my hot chocolate on top of the coffee table and see how it works out.

Thanks, grey box.