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Jun 25, 2008


I've been trying to purge over the last few days, a task that does not come naturally to me. Clothes, books, papers. STUFF in general. All the moving furniture around turned up lots of piles of random junk that need to be dealt with. Restructuring our clothes storage demands assessing the value of keeping clothes from high school and college that may never be worn again. This is so much more emotional than just choosing the useful over the worn out. There is history here! I have one shirt that I remember buying from the Gap in high school, wore it on several dates with Patrick after I started college, and is now so worn that it could be used as a rag. (Don't even suggest it - it's no good as a rag. Wrong material.) It could still be wearable, but not by me. But the thought of someone else wearing it is a bit heartbreaking!

Patrick is even worse. I will at least see reason eventually and get rid of the stuff. (Eventually meaning about ten minutes.) Patrick, on the other hand, will croon and howl about how he has had that neon yellow windbreaker for seventeen years and how could I possibly suggest giving it away! He readily admits that it is not even retro-kitschy fashionable and that he has not worn it in over fourteen years, but that DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING! It will STAY!

The purging is going as well as is to be expected for two such pack rats, and I recognize that we get rid of this old stuff that we don't want to make way for the new, necessary things we need. So I'm getting rid of my old t-shirt and I will convince Patrick to part with some of his high school clothes that will never fit again. But, if anyone buys a cute, worn, green t-shirt with white and brown stripes across the front from Goodwill that looks like its been around the block a few times, please don't tell me about it. You'll just taint my memories of my youth.

2 Readers rock!:

Anonymous said...

That’s the whole meaning of life, isn’t it:
trying to find a place
for your stuff?

That’s all your house is;
your house is just a place
for your stuff.

If you didn’t have
so much
you wouldn’t need a house.

You could just walk around all the time.

That’s all your house is,
just a pile of stuff
with a cover on it.

You see that when you take off in an airplane
and you look down
and you see everybody’s got
a little pile of stuff.

Everybody’s got their own pile of stuff.

And when you leave your stuff,
you’ve gotta lock it up.

Wouldn’t want somebody to come by
and take some of your stuff.
(They always take the good stuff…)

That’s all your house is:
a place to keep your stuff
while you go out and get
more stuff.

—George Carlin, 1937-2008

Dragonfly said...

Good luck. I am probably due for one of those myself.