Of front burners and back burners

Public domain image from clipartlord.com.
Public domain image from clipartlord.com.

Pssst . . . Want to buy an old pinball machine? How about two of them? Or three?

Or maybe you would prefer an old Macintosh computer with a 14.4K modem? Or one with a 33K modem? Or a 56K modem?

Then there’s an old stereo system with huge 125-watt speakers?

A couple of leaky old canoes?

How about . . .?

Sigh . . .

Note the common denominator in all of the aforementioned items (do I really need to spell it out?).

I am not the first person to observe that we spend the front end of our lives uploading stuff, and the back end unloading. And it seems to be an awful lot easier uploading than unloading, doesn’t it?

Yes, I am contemplating moving to a smaller home, and the thought of it all is daunting. The hassles involved with preparing and selling my current home and finding and buying a new home are bad enough. But it’s the moving part that really scares me.

I wish I could automate the whole process. Press a button. Presto!

Or assign everything to a secretary.

“Take care of the details, darling,” she says, snapping her fingers.

Or find a professional who could handle everything from A to Z. I simply would have to choose the new home, agree on the sales price of this one, sign whatever, and drive from Point A to Point B on moving day, where everything in my new home would be in place and I could pour myself a glass of wine and . . . write a short blog post, perhaps, called Moving 101 for Blondes (and Dummies).

The other option, of course, is not to move at all, and let somebody else deal with aforementioned stuff after my time in the material world is up. But like so many other people who downsize in the second half of their lives (I refuse to split this subject into quarters), it’s a matter of economics for me. Yes, a story of tangled webs and Sha-la-la-la-la-la, Let’s Live for Today (see The Grass Roots), because although I didn’t hope for it, like many in My Generation (see The Who), I figured I would die before I got old.

Not that I am old yet, of course.

So where am I going with all of this?

With this post?

With “the move”?

With what comes after my sojourn on this little blue planet third from the sun? (see I’m a Stranger Here, Five Man Electrical Band)

I dunno.

Sigh . . .

Whatever . . . It’s the weekend. Time to kick back a bit.

I’ll put everything else on the back burner for now.

— Jillian

2 thoughts on “Of front burners and back burners

  1. I know the feeling. Our last move was paid for by my wife’s employer, so we really didn’t have to do anything. But, I did make an effort to reduce the clutter before the packing. Besides we were moving from a 1500 square foot ranch house in San Jose to a 2-story, 2500 SF house with a basement and an attic.

    It didn’t take long to fill that additional space.

    My daughter has graduated, gotten a job in her field of study and been on her on for 6-months, so she may not likely be moving back. So, we’re looking at our four-bedroom colonial and wondering when we should look for something smaller.

    And what will I do with all of the stuff in the basement. It just grows, doesn’t it.

    So, when the time to move comes, I’ll likely buy lots of beer and bar-b-que to bribe friends to help. Wait, that won’t work any more, all my friends are like me – old! They would only be good for a single piece of furniture before we’re exhausted.

    I think that we will just stay here for a few more years.

    Like

  2. Junk – er stuff – expands to fill the available closet space. I moved so many times in the military that I got really good at it (plus I’m hyper-organized). It was easier then, because (a) they paid for it, (b) I was single, (c) hadn’t accumulated much stuff.

    Actually, except for memorabilia (of which I have gotten more and more), I could walk away from the rest without a backward glance. Clothing, furniture, kitchenware… all just “stuff” and has no emotional hold on me.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s