Doing the Andy Rooney Thing

I always enjoyed Andy Rooney's commentary at the end of the"60 Minutes" show. I do not watch TV much so I do not know if he is still doing his thing or if he has retired. I know he is very old. He would take some ordinary objects and make an editorial out of talking about them, like the old jackets hanging in his closet and why he cannot throw them out even though he never wears them. Great stuff.
Here is my Andy Rooney thing:
Every man needs an office, and every man needs a big desk in that office. I have both, and as I look at my desk, I realise why I need a big one. It is full of stuff, at least that is what my wife calls it. She would like to clean it up, but I keep pointing to the sticker on the side of my filing cabinet that says "Please no try straighten out da mess around here ... you goin' jam up my system." I picked it up in Hawaii many years ago, hence the cute accent. (Not the filing cabinet, the sticker)
A lot of my stuff is electronic, like the digital clock just off to my left. It is not flashing the time right now because the button battery is dead and those are hard to find. And that would explain why I have another battery operated clock right beside it. I always know the time because I will always have one battery or the other as a backup. Actually, the time is in the right hand corner of my computer monitor screen so I could get rid of the two clocks.
Then there is the calculator. It is an Italian model and you have to do funny things to make it add and subtract properly. It comes with a thermal printer but I discovered that thermal tape in rolls is cheaper by the big box, but it also loses its thermal sensitivity after a year or two, so I do not have my calculations printed out at all. Come to think of it, I have a calculator on my computer so I don't really need that old thing. There is a desk lamp with a halogen bulb in it that gets so hot I can actually fry eggs on it if I get to my office before breakfast. I rarely turn it on as the three track light halogens above my desk, mounted on the ceiling, give enough light, and heat.
There are three photos, two of them framed, of my grandsons. The problem with these is that they do not look like my grandsons because my grandsons are growing so fast that no matter how quickly I change the photos, they are out of date, sometimes in a matter of minutes. Right in front of me sits my Franklin electronic dictionary. I am a terrible speller and when there is not a spell check function on what I am typing on the computer, such as blog comments, I am using the dictionary. The problem with this one is that it has a very limited vocabulary. I should get a more modern one. There is a cable modem, a router, a monitor, a PC tower, two small tower speakers (with a bass woofer on the floor getting kicked around a lot) and a printer. These are the heartbeat of my "office". Oh, did I forget the keyboard, the one with the 'c' completely rubbed off? Now why would that be? Is the letter 'c' the most commonly typed key, or do my fingernails need clipping? Oh dear. How could I forget the mouse? The one with the colour rubbed right off of the left click button. Fingernails again?
My monitor sits on a small stack of old magazines to bring it up to my eye level. It is unsightly, and I am sure they have a solution for this at Staple's, but this works. I do not know what these old magazines are back copies of because I do not want to disturb the neat round ring of dust under the monitor base.
Just as important as all this electronic stuff, is the paperwork. It seems everything is a 'work in progress'. I cannot file it away until the file is up dated or whatever. Besides, my filing cabinet is full. Just for starters, there are unpaid but not overdue bills, business cards, 'to do' lists, an empty Tim Hortons' card, a package of photo print paper, a small desk calendar (so I can verify the wall calendar), sticky notes to remind me of chiropractic and dental appointments, spare printer paper, a very ratty desk pad, a four stack vertical filing system with innumerable important paper in it, a hockey schedule, my bible, my 'jobs' list, a stack of CD's I intend to listen to in the next few years, a box containing a video editing software program that I never could get to work, and a couple of sticky furry things to prevent my new doors from letting in a draft at the bottom where the door sweep does not quit reach far enough.
In all honesty, I have not revealed all, but now you understand why my wife would like to clean up. After re-reading this piece, (for spelling and grammatical errors) I realise that maybe I should allow her to do just that.