Saturday, May 05, 2007

Spring Cleaning

It recently came to my attention that our garage had metamorphosed into a giant closet. I took note of this myself when last week I opened the door leading from our house to the garage, threw a jacket into the garage, and quickly shut the door before the pile of other recently-tossed items fell back into the house and crushed me. Like a clutter tsunami.

In an effort to once again enter our garage without the threat of becoming trapped and never leaving it, we decided to conduct some Spring Cleaning. The most difficult part about Spring Cleaning in Las Vegas is that spring lasts precisely three hours before the weather turns deadly and your garage becomes a sauna. Fortunately, spring came on a Saturday this year, and in three hours time, we rid ourselves of some very serious rubbish.

Now, I blame myself for much of this collected junk. I’m not great at throwing things away, or passing them along to others who might be in a more dire need of an INXS 1988 World Tour concert t-shirt than I am. Whether it has sentimental value, monetary value, or the value of fitting into an imaginary game I play – wherein the world will be destroyed unless an average citizen can step up and save the planet by presenting a vintage Aladdin costume as a gift to appease the conquering alien invaders – I just have a difficult time letting some things go.

But I certainly recognize when enough is enough. And when the new Deseret Industries recently opened for business here in Las Vegas, located on – I’m not making this up – Craig Road, well, we decided to make our contributions.

Yes, that is an electric organ. “The first of its kind?” you are wondering. Possibly. A neighbor gave this to us a few years back.

“It was my grandma’s. She cherished it. I can’t use it, but I thought your kids might fall in love it.”

Translation: “My grandma saddled me with this useless eye-sore years ago. I thought I was doomed to have it hovering in the corner of my garage forever and ever…but then I saw you poor suckers, noticed your garage full of clutter of Biblical proportions, and figured I could unload it on you, knowing that you don’t have the intestinal fortitude to get rid of it while we live next door to each other; because I might casually drop by some Sunday evening and ask if I could play the extended version of In-a-Gadda-Da-Vida, and if it’s gone, I will be sore upset that you threw out Grandma’s priceless electric organ.”

But then our neighbor moved across town. NOW who’s the sucker? (Answer: Deseret Industries, and the second-hand horse they rode in on.)

No, this is not a still shot from Antique Roadshow, these are cassette tapes I have owned since high school. And yes, that is a classic Walkman you see. And I know what you’re thinking. How could I in good conscience possibly hand off the Hammer? I’ll tell you how. I bought it on CD at a garage sale the week prior, for $1. Because I’ll tell you something about me you probably didn’t know. In high school, I was voted Most Too Legit to Quit. I still have the award. It’s somewhere in the garage, hidden in the clutter tsunami.