There’s something about
moving that is unsettling. You can be organized and have a good sense of reason,
but nothing can really prepare you for the chaos that ensues when the movers
show up and the clock starts ticking. I
freely admit that I’m a semi-professional hoarder, and that puts me at a definite
disadvantage from the start. I can appreciate
the emotional attachment that some people have with various things that have accumulated over the years.
 |
(Two piece sculpture that my wife and I bought for our 1st house)
|
My wife and I made the
decision to move to Covington, LA. A lot
of people are confused at first, “Covington, Los Angeles? Where is that?” It’s Covington, Louisiana, and yes it may
seem like a random place for a couple of California lifers to be relocating. I
even wonder myself sometimes, how this life choice came about so quickly. I’d say that the short answer is that we live
in a changing world. California, in particular, has become a very expensive
place to live. And one of the breaking
points for me was the increase in HOA dues in our complex to $420.00 per
month. When I get saddled with the equivalent
of a new car payment in exchange for a pool, write-ups regarding what color our
garden hose is, and board member in-fighting about how much they can increase
our assessments in order to replace the roofs on the entire community, I had to
say, “check please.”
 |
(Liquor jug/music box, with spinning drunk man on a lamppost)
|
In preparation for our move,
I was tasked with the job of clearing out a storage unit, and some boxes that
have been in our garage since – roughly, the beginning of time. To put things in context, I still have a box
from our last move that I clearly marked in black Sharpie, “Videotapes and
other obsolete things.” I read somewhere
that if you haven’t seen it or used it in over six months, it’s a candidate for
donation or disposal. For items that
carry some kind of emotion attachment, it is suggested that you take a picture
of the item and then donate or discard it.
I’ve done this quite a bit, and it seems to make it a little easier to
get rid of things that probably have no value to anyone.
 |
(Candle holder with glowing eyes - given to me in 8th grade after an overnight minor surgery)
|
We do a lot of traveling,
and New Orleans has always been one of our favorite stops. The food, the strong sense of pride from the
residents and the culture have always appealed to us. I had a conversation with a couple from the
area and told them how my wife and I loved the New Orleans area, and always took
some time to check out the local real estate vibe whenever we visited. They told me to look into a few up-and-coming
communities in Mandeville and Covington.
They said that the areas are very nice, and you can purchase a new home
for about $350,000.00
My storage unit had been
with us almost as long as my youngest daughter (23 years old). You could say
that it was like the ever present relative that you just can’t get out of your
life. (I don’t happen to have any
relatives like that, but I’ve heard some stories.) It started out as a holding cell for returned
or unsalable business items, but slowly morphed into a place for things that
we just didn’t need right then, or things that held some real or imagined
sentimental value to me. For a partial
list, but by no means a comprehensive list, here are a few examples of the
random items that I’ve held in storage – and are well past drinking age:
- Cassette Tapes – about 100. Some pre-recorded, some mix tapes that I put
together. When was the last time that I played a cassette? When was the last
time that one of my cars had a cassette player?
I can’t remember the answer to either of those questions. But I do still have a cassette player, and
there is hope that someday I may explore some of those tapes.
- Two and a half boxes of
vinyl LPs. When was the last time that I’ve
played an LP? It’s probably been a few years, but I do have a very high-end
turntable and as soon as I get my stereo receiver repaired, I will most likely
play them again.
- A bowling pin from my tenth
birthday. OK, full disclosure, I did
take a picture of this and throw it away.
 |
(Bowling Pin from my 10th Birthday Party)
|
- A box of get-well cards that
were written to my father, following his brain cancer surgery. These cards are about 40 years old, and no
one but me or my siblings might ever look at them again, but I’m holding on to
these.
- Similar box of get-well
cards that were written for my mother, and condolence cards written for both of
them as well as my maternal grandparents.
I’ve saving those, too.
- Photos, pens, pencils,
safety razors and Zippo style lighters (Do I smoke? No.)
- Bags full of matchbooks from
restaurants around the United States – some of these I had frequented, but
mostly they were accumulated at restaurants that my parents had gone to. Again,
do I smoke? Could these possible be a fire hazard? I got rid of most of the matchbooks.
- Salt and Pepper shakers (My
wife and I were once avid collectors, not so much anymore, but I’m keeping
them.)
- Shot Glasses (My wife was a
big collector of these, and I’m keeping them.)
- I had some standard office
supplies: staples, paper clips, cellophane tape, file folders, page protectors,
push pins, three ring binders - I used to call these notebooks, (1” and 3” for
those who might have been wondering – and they were all orange in color.) I
threw all of the notebooks away – all 8-10 boxes of them - after taking pictures
of them and saving one of the 1” for a souvenir.
 |
(Orange isn't the new black. Notebooks at the landfill.)
|
- Upwards of 30 large rolls of
cellophane – almost all of them amber in color, and about eight boxes of rattail
(satin cord, for those in the jewelry or packaging business). I kept these
originally because they had too much value for me to throw away. The years of storage paid for them many times
over. I ended up donating a small
portion to a special needs organization and sadly, throwing away the rest at
the landfill.
Moving is emotional and traumatic. Every time we've moved in the past, I've vowed to never do it again. I am such a liar! As we begin this journey, I know that we will face an equally frustrating task of unpacking - an endless search and rescue process that will challenge our patience and memory.
Our drive to the new home begins tomorrow. We will be traveling cross country with two dogs in tow. I'll attempt to document our progress, as long as my sanity remains intact. Here is a picture of our ultimate destination; the light at the end of the tunnel.
 |
(The new vessel for all of our stuff. Photo courtesy of Realtor.com)
|
Read more...
