I am no Felix Unger of Odd Couple fame. Not a neatnik. Never have been. In fact, I have long suspected my belongings – from all walks of life and purpose – of leaping out of drawers, off shelves, and onto the floor, or, if gymnastics is in the air that day, landing in a trash basket or falling behind a corner chair.

When I was a boy, my clothes: shirts, shoes, underwear, socks, schoolbooks, baseball cards, hats, jacket, coat, anything I might need during the day would be in piles on the floor in my room. Easy access. Right in front of me. Just like the icons on my desktop!

Think about it, the Merriam-Webster online dictionary definition of “desktop” includes, “an area or window on a computer screen in which icons are arranged in a manner analogous to objects on top of a desk.”

These icons are in view because then you can see them, which makes sense. It made no sense to me back then, all those instances of parental insistence; one should put one’s things inside other things so one can’t see one’s things anymore. That’s about the size of it. Put your things in bureaus, closets, dressers, cabinets, shelves, the basement. Any place that prevented you from seeing your things. I know I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you don’t have to be a sharp knife to know darned well it’s harder to find things when (drum roll, please), you cannot see them!

My room really was the desktop of my day. (I am 69). The elements of my life were located there. Certainly, the room was far more pleasant visually when it was neat and orderly. While I do appreciate the calmness in that scene, I do not appreciate knowing the very orderliness I was beholden to was the very thing that made my belongings hard to find.