First Person
(Better) Automatic for the People! Or, at least for Kanin.
About a year ago, as my partner and I were readying our house for our move to Texas, I found myself caught in what’s become a familiar nostalgia loop: Despite the distance, the cost, and the fact that about six months would pass between me and my stuff (leaving said partner to go through my crap), I couldn’t bear to part with more than a few items which probably should have ended up in a give-away pile long ago. Now, faced with the prospect of home-ownership, I’ve been girding myself for what must be the inevitable clean out. And on moving day eve I’m ready to …
stuff all of my various sentimental attachments in places where she’ll never find ‘em. So, in tribute to my inability to use a trash can — and to offer my lady an idea of what will, come this time next week, be buried at the bottom of some closet, I offer the readers of Unfit the following
INVENTORY OF OBJECTS STILL MAKING THE MOVE
1) Shoe organizer with Paddington Bear head, monogrammed. Origin unknown. You look Paddington Bear in the eyes and tell him that his time has come.
2) Butcher Block Kitchen Table w. Stand, missing two pieces and the screws to hold it together. Formerly used for dining in the Kanin household, 197?-c.1987. I’m sure a psychiatric professional would have a field day with this one: The last time it was put to any permanent use was before my parents split. Now, if I can bear to throw away the stand, it will become part of a counter-top and bar we plan on installing in the new place.
3) Stereo Component Mini Disc Player w. Eight Mini Discs. Okay. My pal Hugh made me some kick-ass dub/reggae mixes. On mini disc. There are eight of them and, until such time as I stop believing that the medium will make a comeback, these little guys will travel with me.
4) JVC Component Tape Deck w. 50 or so cassettes. (See above.)
5) Assorted Animals, Stuffed. Of varying origins. Blame this one on my unending ability to anthropomorphize just about anything (see item number 1). The surviving members of my formerly massive clique of imaginary companions include:
Kermit the Frog hand puppet (1)
Generic monkey hand puppet (1)
Sock monkey covered in 20-year-old vomit stains (1)
I shall not reward these loyal fellows with a summary execution. [ed. For the record, that was not a Rick roll.]
6) Gates of Prayer, Monogrammed. Received as a gift from the Washington Hebrew Congregation on completion of my Rites of Bar Mitzvah. It’s wrong to chuck a prayer book, right? I mean … right?
7) The Better Automatic, Parts and Pieces Compact Disc, 25 count. Yeah. There are probably about 950 more of these somewhere. And yet …
Someday, maybe these things will find their way to an ignominious end. But today, they’re tucked away safe inside some boxes.
Comments
2 Comments
And to think I allowed that sock [ed.: monkey] on my bed.. on my pillow, no less! Damn your sentimental pack-rattery!
maybe you can create a tattoo key to the location of the hidden objects… I once asked H what was under all the clothes on top of his closet and he replied, ‘the body of my mother’… what would freud say about that? By the way, when should I ship the depression glass and the rest of ‘the boys’?
PS: The kitchen table is from 1974. David and I bought it when we moved to Carol Ave — a few months before we were married. I should send you a photo!
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