MORE TRASH TALK
“What is this?” Mary Ellen inquired the other day as she dangled a doodad in front of my face. It was small, white, plastic, hexagonal, and had several grooves. “It looks like it goes to something,” she said.
“I don’t know what it is,” I responded, which I prayed would end the discussion, but I knew it wouldn’t because my wife just can’t leave a thingamajig hanging. She would have to know what it went to.
“Dick, put it somewhere in case we ever need it. It may go to something.”
“You hate to throw things away. Should we keep all our old credit card statements?”
“No, you can throw those away. Just be sure to make copies.”
“Mary Ellen, I am very confused. What do we keep?”
“This is simple. We only keep things that look important, that may go to something.”
I knew exactly what she meant. I have an entire drawer filled with things that look important. But I have no idea what they go to.
I decided to approach this problem methodically. I would throw out one thing every day for a year. I began with a doohickey I had kept in my drawer since we moved in 2018. I was sure that nothing in our house required anything quite like that, whatever that was. But there was only one way to be sure that something is not important, that it doesn’t go to anything. You throw it away. I tossed it in the waste basket next to my desk. A few days later, I heard the familiar sound of the garbage truck pulling away. Whatever that thing was, it was now gone forever. It was just a matter of time before I realized what it was for and what it went to. The next day, my son came over to do some minor household repairs…
“Dad, Mom wants me to re-hang the old spice rack. She thinks we have the doohickey that can attach it to the wall. It’s plastic, shaped like a hexagon, and has grooves. Do you know where it is?’
“Yes, I think I may have tossed it. The sanitation guys took it.”
“You threw that away, Dad? Didn’t you know that it went to something?”
‘Yes, I knew it went to something. I just didn’t know what it went to.”
“Great, Dad. Now you know what it went to. It went to the dump!”
The whole thing was so frustrating. It was time to take action. I headed downstairs to my office. I removed the top drawer from my desk, flipped it over and dumped the entire contents into the wastebasket: wooden knobs, old keys, pen tops, dozens of multi-colored plastic thingies, metal gizmos in various shapes and a rubber whatchamacallit with a hole in the middle. The garbage truck was due the next day at noon. It would all be gone.
“What’s going on down there?” shouted Mary Ellen when she heard the thunderous clatter of my junk drawer. I hope you are not throwing out anything important.”
“I’ll know for sure tomorrow right after lunch.”