Every day, you people just keep calling and writing with the same question. “Mike,” you demand. “It’s been 20 stinkin’ years. Why won’t you tell us what’s in your office drawers?”

OK, that’s never happened. As far as I can recall, not a single person has ever asked what’s in my drawers. It’s a real shame, too, because there’s some fun to be had in my drawers.

Who among you remembers the classic Finney story “Contents of a Dead Man’s Pocket?” In this tale, a man trapped on the ledge of a high-rise building reflects on the contents of his pockets (Hey! That must be where he got the title!) and gets wondering about what those contents will say about the life he led.

Or something. I haven’t actually read the story since high school. It’s quite possible that the Finney piece is actually about kumquat farming in Indochina, but bear with me.

I opened one of the main drawers at my newsroom desk one recent afternoon and, like the kumquat farmer out on the ledge, I got to wondering how people would view these items if I were dead and gone. Once the police forensic guys were done with them (I died in grisly fashion in this scenario; tragic) who would be left with these items and what would they do with them?

It’s very deep. And because by now your mind is almost completely blown, I’m just going to go ahead and open up my drawers so you can take a look.

• Uncle Oinkers Gummy Bacon: four slices, strawberry flavored. I think this was a gift from an editor on some now-forgotten occasion. I can’t remember if I sent a thank-you note.

• An empty racquetball container. Smells like racquetballs.

• A badly scratched and scarred racquetball with a crack down the middle of it. Some wit used a pen to convert that crack into a smiley face. There might be a profound message in there.

• Disc: Nick Bougas presents: “Celebrities at their worst!” “All your favorite stars spouting all your favorite filthy words!”

• Disc: Hank (Williams) III “Gutter Town.” With scribbled note: “If this doesn’t spark one emotion, you gotta be flat lining.” The hits include, “Goin’ to Gutter Town,” “Gutter Stomp,” “The Dirt Road,” “Dyin’ Day” and “Chaos Queen.”

• A hairy yellow toy called the Boing Plush. “Makes a sound when it hits the ground.” Actually, all you have to do is swat it with your hand and it goes “boing-oing-oing-oing,” By my estimation, I’ve annoyed 482 people right out of journalism with this thing. One day the lovely former staff photographer Amber Waterman got a hold of it and my God! That thing IS annoying!

• A package of Totally Tattoos! “Fun to wear, easy to apply.” Designs include a skull, a lizard, a spider, a snake, fire and something that looks like a kumquat.

• Press pass from 2004. I was so young, so naive. Wait. No, it’s actually from 2014. Still, I stand by that assessment.

• Lens wipe that looks like it was actually used to wipe … well, it’s pretty gross.

• Book: “From the Volcano to the Gorge: Getting the Job Done on Iwo Jima” by Howard N. McLaughlin Jr. and Raymond C. Miller.

• Book: “Reiki Nurse” by the charming and talented Meredith Kendall.

• A hard rubber ball with painted skull and crossbones.

• Two thongs, one black, one white. If I recall, these things came anonymously in the mail. It was all very flattering and unhygienic.

• Four baseballs, three of them filthy, one immaculate. There might be a dirty joke there.

• A Pabst bottle opener. If this thing could talk, I wouldn’t let it.

• A Lewiston police card featuring Officer Randy Hausman, whom I don’t think I’ve ever met.

• A roll of plastic barbed wire. This is not what it looks like!

• A bumper sticker: “I don’t brake for editors” with a set of skid marks. That was before I learned to love editors.

• Wallet card: Daily Press Rights to Cross Police Lines, citing Virginia code Sec. 15.1-140.1. I think I tried employing this technique at a Lewiston crime scene once. Cop laughed so hard, stuff flew out of his nose.

• Wallet card: Daily Press Declaration of Rights: “On behalf of myself and the Daily Press, I move to intervene in and for the access to these proceedings under the First Amendment to the United States Constitution and article …”

• A duck-face puppet that quacks when you squeeze it. If you thought the Boing Plush thingamabob was annoying, you ain’t seen nothing.

• A Salem Evening News ball cap. The brim is weirdly huge, which means I look twice as stupid in this cap. Do you want it?

• Stephen King’s autograph from 1985: “For Mark – Happy Birthday.” Stephen King is an obscure author from Bangor, in case you didn’t know.

• One bright orange earplug. For, you know. When half the world’s sounds are annoying me.

• Strips of photo negatives from a party we had when I left the paper in 2000. Ha ha ha! Suckers.

• A device featuring a short handle and a dozen stiff hanging wires whose sole purpose is — I am not making this up — to tickle the scalp. I’m taking this sucker home.

Please be sure to pick up a copy of my upcoming novel “Contents of a Dead Man’s Drawers.” It’s about kumquat farming.

Mark LaFlamme is a Sun Journal staff writer. He will take any opportunity to repeatedly use the word “kumquat.” Email him at mlaflamme@sunjournal.com.

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