Sunday, October 3, 2010

Mountain Doo

It’s basically done, I am feeling pretty well whipped and I barely lifted a finger. The exhaustion comes from the overwhelming task of having all of it packed, labeled and then watch as it’s pushed up onto a truck only to be delivered at the next residence.

The task to go through each of those boxes that you’ve only just put your efforts into over the last several weeks and find a new home for everything is daunting.
While doing that chore you come to the realization that you have accumulated far too much shit but each piece holds some sort of memory or invokes a feeling.

This is when any educated individual will come to terms with the fact that they are a hoarder.
What an awful word hoarder is. It evokes disgust and sympathy at the same time, we don’t really understand what causes such behavior yet every single one of us has a touch of the disease trapped within us.

You don’t believe it?

Ask yourself this, why do you buy art, knickknacks, keep greeting cards sent to you each year during the holidays/birthdays/anniversaries? Are these items really so essential in your daily life that you can’t bear to live without them?
No, the answer is no – just face it and we’ll agree that you too are a hoarder.

Some people call themselves ‘collectors’ and amass great volumes of garbage, useless drivel that only has value to them or other collectors but when a larger group of people look at it they only see crap.

Purging is difficult to say in the least. You touch that ‘thing’ that made you smile when you first got it but after some time its just because a shadow in the background of your daily life, forgotten but there.

For years I ‘collected’ this and that but nothing of extraordinary value or size, but in the hopes that we would settle down at long last and I could display these things that caught my eye.

The problem is that we’ve never settled down and our vagabond lifestyle doesn’t fit with the heaps of crap we own. When you finally come to terms, decide to let items go you are then faced with the dilemma to place a ‘value’ on said shit.

More often than not we’re going to head straight towards the resale of our precious mementos and there is insult to injury when you have folks come to offer pennies to your dollars spent.

Don’t forget, you do the same damn thing when you are searching for something out of the advertisements, at yard sales and estate sales but when it’s our turn we turn into defensive wild cats ready to throw out our claws and spat at anyone that offers us anything less than the value we’ve put on the sticker.

This past week I thought I’d try my hand at the pawn shop to see what a few of my high-end handbags were worth. Not using them and they are prized by glitter-happy Texas-big-hair broads and I’m too impatient to put them online for sale.

My impatience is definitely my downfall because the slap to my forehead and the pittance offered for said fashionable baggage had me walking back out the door.

Back into storage for now but first some digital snaps, advertisement on the local classifieds and then sit back and wait while the offers trickle through my email.

Guess in the meantime I get to stare blankly at my mountain of priceless goodies.
One man’s treasure is another man’s heap of horse puckie.