I also wallpapered the bathroom with pages from an old copy of Grey's Anatomy that I got from some guys who were cleaning 45 years of accumulated crap out of an old man's rent controlled studio. His family finally moved him to hospice and for reasons passing understanding, decided not to invoke the family claim on a $250 per month studio on the top floor of a brownstone in the West Village. My attempts to have them adopt me were met with chilly reception. (Sorry mom and dad but it's a rent controlled apartment. People kill and eat elderly family members for those here.)
I like the idea that this old man whom I've never met, bought a red, leather bound copy of Grey's Anatomy and now it's gracing the walls of a room in my house. He wasn't a doctor I know that. Perhaps he always wanted to be one and this was a half step down a road not taken. Maybe he was a hypochondriac and wanted, scratch that- desperately needed- a more intimate knowledge of what was going on under his skin. Details that would help him describe in depth the peculiar bodily malfunctions he carried around with him like gurgly unevictable roommates. My grandmother has a Physician's Desk Reference for the same reason.
Maybe he just liked the red leather cover.
Either way, I have it now. And this random treasure from a strangers life has become part of mine as it lives a new life of it';s own. As my bathroom wallpaper.
My bathroom which is now educational as well as a nice place to... you know... do your business.
