Tomorrow is Groundhog Day. I thought I'd start the spring cleaning... just in case Punxsutawney Phil does not see his shadow. And then again, even if he does see it (symbolizing six more weeks of winter, which I happen to like), I had still better get started. PETA wants to replace the real thing with a robot groundhog. I can't even get into this right now.
On this post-Grammy morning, I could make a few comments about music but why bother? I'm sure plenty of other people are rehashing last night's creative lows and fashion fiascos. As for self-discovery in this arena, let's leave it at this-- many (like a lot many) years ago, I knew that I hated performing live. Years later, I kind of liked it. And as I got older and didn't really give a shit, I actually looked forward to it. Someone can analyze that, if they want. I'm looking at it as a kind of over-and-done-with issue. I've got more important things to deal with. Like the space in the back of my car.
It's not really a trunk in a Prius. It is just an area. My mother used to complain when our rooms were messy, always making reference to some people called the Collyer brothers. Famous hoarders. Nationally renowned, even. Now I know their first names, Homer and Langley, thanks to E.L. Doctorow. You have to admire a brother (Langley) who hoarded newspapers, keeping them so that if his brother (Homer) should ever regain his sight, he could catch up on the news. This was not the only thing piling up in the Collyer house, but it is my favorite due to its brotherly love motive/excuse for doing it. Plus, it keeps me from having to think about Homer's dead body being discovered on March 21st, 1947 and it taking until April 8th to find Langley, whose body had been partially eaten by rats.
I have been meaning to go through the area in the back of my car for a while. Today, I had no choice but to face it. I didn't think a self-deprecating reference to the Collyer brothers would be a good excuse for why I wouldn't be able to get my son's science project exhibit to school. What would I have said, really? "I'm going to be featured on an episode of Hoarders. Aren't you excited that your mom is going to be on TV?"
So, what I discovered is this. I had the usual, random stuff that piles up. Some magazines, a couple of books, a box of anti-bacterial hand wipes purchased during the H1N1 scare, and a pair of exercise sandals. The thing that really surprised me was the cache of approximately 25 reusable bags from various grocery stores. I know that I used to feel guilty using bags from one store when I shopped at another, prompting me to have a small selection available. (As if the checkout person at Bristol Farms was going to chastise me for shopping at Gelson's.) I now see what happens when you don't remember to bring the bags into the store or when you forget to bring them back to the car after unloading the groceries at home. You just buy a couple of more until a couple turns into approximately 25. Who knew that trying to be environmentally conscious could turn you into the Collyer brothers? It seems to be somewhat contradictory.
After stuffing all of the bags into one, I felt a little better. That is until I found the special, window-smashing hammer that I bought from Publisher's Clearing House was back there, still in its box. When I bought it, it was during a moment of thinking that a purchase would improve my chances of winning. When the hammer arrived, I promptly put it in the "area". But what good would the prize money and the 25 grocery bags do me if I was submerged under water in my car?
The hammer is now in the glove compartment.
I was wondering where you kept that hammer and I certainly hope you never need to use it!
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