#paullukas

[m00nnewt9]

1954's 20,000 LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA - MARCH 24, 2026 - YOU TUBE VIDEO: MOVIE TRAILER

A ship sent to investigate a wave of mysterious sinkings encounters the advanced submarine, the Nautilus, commanded by Captain Nemo (James Mason).

Director: Richard Heischler.

Based on Jules Verne's novel.

Screenplay by Earl Felton.

Producer: Walt Disney.

Composer: Paul J. Smith

[illinoishometownteams]

Photo Sources, clockwise: here, here, here, here. 

We stumbled upon this article in our research and couldn't help but get all mushy and nostalgic over the thing. (Though to counter Mr. Lukas' point, I have kept my printed-out tickets!) This particular urge to keep and collect is something we can all relate to, whether it’s related to sports or not. 

But why do we do this? 

For me, and I assume a lot of people, it's mostly about forgetting, or rather not forgetting. I'm often so terrified that my mind will accidentally delete a memory--like what it felt like to go to my very first Notre Dame football game when my big brother was a student there--and it will be like I was never there, a moment in time swallowed up by all the other STUFF that accumulates in my head. So I keep things. Ticket stubs, yes, and other things, too. What's my criteria?--usually, an entirely subjective evaluation of all the crap in my pockets and purse post-event.

In museums, we always talk about the "shiver of contact," usually in reference to encountering an artifact that is so rare and precious that it becomes transformative. Imagine seeing Shakespeare's handwriting or a cocktail napkin with Marilyn Monroe's lip stain, objects so little removed from the person themselves that you can almost feel them there. Same goes for our own objects. I could hold the most insignificant scrap of paper, what others might dismiss as trash, but because of the meaning I gave to it for whatever inexplicable reason, touching it is like going back in time. 

Who needs to remember when you've got that? 

But I share in the author's lament for technology's replacement of objects like ticket stubs. I may have kept a few Ticketmaster printouts, but they don't carry the same life that a real stub does. And for every game I printed out a ticket for, there are two more where my iPhone was scanned instead. In these cases, it may have been the convenience of technology that replaced a sacred step in the process, but one could argue that the digital world has responded with options like Facebook and Instagram. What are these media for but to document our lives? And what's more, it doesn't live in a box on the top shelf of your coat closet. It's out there for everyone to see and experience with you.

Then again, I might be over-romanticizing. I mean who could say looking at a Facebook photo takes you back in time? Which begs the question, is there something about these private meanings we assign our memories that make them more special? Does a ticket stub you carry around in your wallet mean more than the photo you posted on Instagram? I'm guessing most people would say “yes.” And so, we return to our initial question…why?

Over here, in the humanities, our entire jobs are staked on this question: "Why?" And we base this question on the assumption that there is usually more than one answer. So let’s hear your answers. Can Facebook and Instagram replace a real-life souvenir? Why or why not?

Email me a response at [email protected] and we’ll post your answer on our next blog post. 

-Mallory, Program Coordinator at Illinois Humanities Council