Icons for Icons.

I was clearing out the family home recently with my brother.

We share little pools of pictures, of course. 

Little image-based memories.

Pictures that represent synapses permanently formed in the shape of those images.

But I don't mean furniture, the piano, the chest freezer.

I mean the empty tins of Meggezones and Phillips tape (although I never saw tape in the tin, just screws). I mean the wall clock which wasn't Louis XIV. It was plastic. It ran on a double-A battery (although it took me about 15 years to work that out).

Meggezones by the way were available up until April 2013, this year, according to Amazon. With reviewers appealing to the better nature of Merck Sharp & Dohme (rather than Meggeson, the now redundant name I see written inside the tin, and who used to add a line of heroin to their popular bronchitic mixtures). 

But all is not lost for the sore-throated. Those old pastilles now look a lot like the new Vocalzone Pastilles, as recommended by Tom Jones. Icons for icons.

There were bigger things of course such as the table tennis table.
And a final few games. But this time with the maturity not to play the decider (well, what are you going to do, he'd won the second game and there was a distinct possibility he was gaining momentum. And anyway, he knows I would have thrashed him).

None of these items were of real value, but the word we repeatedly used to describe them was.....iconic.

Pictures that were the iconic elements of our shared life.

It was the only word that could be used. Absolutely the correct word but none of the definitions in the dictionary adequately represented our use.

Iconic, unshakeable pictures.

I might even forget Meggezones were disgusting and reload my tin.