Stuff
Copyright Tom Blake 2015
Holding on to a good mate, keep your
clutter out of her attic
Last year,
we mentioned comedian George Carlin’s You tube video about “Stuff.” It’s about
all of the unnecessary stuff we hoard in our lives and the need to get rid of
it. At the end of today’s newsletter, there is a link to his performance. It’s
humorous.
When that
newsletter ran, I did not anticipate that it would apply to me within the next
few months.
Fourteen
years ago, I moved into my girlfriend Greta’s home. I said to her, “I have written
973 newspaper columns and two books, I have a lot of stuff to store.”
She said, “Why
do you need to keep all of that stuff?”
I said, “When
I quote people in a column or a book, I need back up proof that they gave me
permission to use the information. That can entail a lot of paperwork.”
Greta said,
“I have an attic in the garage; we can put your stuff there.”
Over the
years, the amount of stuff stored in her garage grew. I wrote a memoir in 2006
titled, “Prime Rib and Boxcars. Whatever Happened to Victoria Station?” That
created another eight boxes of stuff. And in 2009, I published another book,
“How 50 Couples Found Love After 50.” Another four boxes of stuff. Not to
mention the cases and cases of unsold books that were stored.
Then there
was all of the stuff I moved to the attic from my mom’s home when Mom passed.
It is amazing what we accumulate in our lives. Boxes and boxes of stuff no one
else will ever want.
Oh, when we
traveled, we kept files on all of the places we’d been. More stuff to store.
Then, there
were another 2,114 columns. Plus, there were records from my home that I had
rented out, while living in her home. Also, there were some records from my
Dana Point, California, deli—although I had a storage unit at the deli that held
most of those records.
The attic
in Greta’s garage was like the old coffee company, “Chock Full of Nuts.” Her
attic was chock full of stuff (my stuff).
When you
own a corporation, you are required to keep seven years of records, in case
Uncle Sam or Governor Brown decides to audit you. Egad, that boils down to two
or three boxes of records for each month. That’s at least 24 boxes per year,
times seven, or about 168 boxes of deli corporate stuff that’s got to be stored
somewhere. We had a deli storeroom.
On January
30 this year, I sold the deli; I had to move those 168 boxes from
the deli storeroom to somewhere. Where? My sweetie’s garage floor (remember,
the attic was chocked full), leaving no room to park a car. My stuff just
wouldn’t fit into my garage at my home, where we now live.
And then my
wonderful, kind, gracious, partner of 17 years humbly said, “I love you. But,
we need the garage stuff moved because we have vacation renters coming to stay
in the house and they need to park their car in the garage.”
What she
meant was, “In other words, move your stuff to somewhere else. Now.”
Egad again,
what to do?
My CPA
said, “Rent a storage unit for your deli records. It’s a tax write off.”
So, that’s
what I did. I found a place called Price Self Storage in San Juan Capistrano.
Their logo looked like the old Price Club logo. That’s because the owner was
the Price Club Chief Financial Officer before it became Costco. It’s amazing
the trivia we uncover when we venture beyond our boundaries.
The space I
rented is seven feet by ten feet. I have spent four days packaging and moving
the deli stuff and some of my stuff from Greta’s garage to the storage unit.
All the boxes are marked and dated.
I actually
had fun doing this.
When Greta
saw her garage cleared out, she gave me a big hug. By clearing out my stuff
from her home, I remained in good standing in our relationship.
Of course,
while sorting through my stuff, I started throwing stuff away. I filled four
50-gallon trash containers. If there is a lesson to learn from this move, it’s
to start sorting the stuff you’ve accumulated in attics and garages now--while
you’re still capable of doing so. Don’t leave the task for your kids and
grandkids. It can be a monumental, emotional task. You find stuff that was
significant in your life. That happened numerous times.
For
example, I found an autograph on a 3 x 5-inch card from a football player named
Ron Kramer who was an All-American at the University of Michigan and a tight
end for the Green Bay Packers. I went to his wedding in Jackson, Michigan, in
1958.
I found two
photos from 1975. The first is of Johnny Cash, holding his son John Carter,
along with Johnny’s wife June, and me.
The second
photo is of June Carter Cash and me.
I found a
written authorization from Johnny to use his quote on the back of my first
book, “Middle Aged and Dating Again.” It was signed, “In the 20 years I have
known Tom Blake, he has become an authority on dating and relationships.” The
authorization is dated August, 26, 1996.
Going
through your old stuff can be heart-wrenching and rewarding. It’s amazing what
you will find—stuff about your parents and events that happened to you years
before. Stuff you’ve forgotten, stuff you just can’t toss out.
I found a
hand-written letter, written by my mom on June 17, 1946, to my dad, when he
went to France to help post World War II Europe get back on its manufacturing
feet after the war.
But best of
all, I am still in good standing with the woman of my life of 17 years; I got
the stuff out of her garage.
Clear out
your clutter. It may save your relationship. And you will be doing your heirs a
huge favor. And you never know what precious stuff you might find.
Link to
George Carlin’s video on stuff:
