I recently completed the process of moving … not too far away, still in D.C., still in the same apartment building in fact. Regardless, moving is a pain. At one point of my life, partially during the college years, I moved seven times in seven years. I’m sure there are worse stories.
Moving also provides chances … chances to purge. Combine being a sports fan with a mild case of pack-rat-itis and you’ll accrue a lot of stuff. Combine that with having a mom who was an art teacher, which gave me an eye to see just about everything as a potential project, and you’ll have even more crap that your girlfriend (or significant other) doesn’t admire.
Tickets to just about every sporting event I’ve been to in 30 years? I’ve got most of them around somewhere … pretty sure I’ll do something cool with them someday. Boxes of old basketball and baseball cards? Not only do I have plenty with me, but I also stockpiles spread in other states at the respective abodes of both parents.
So, I took my recent move as a chance to purge, but mostly from the inane — umbrella hats, extra sets of poker chips, t-shirts, t-shirts & more t-shirts, novelty Velcro shoes that I purchased from Wal-Mart when I was in college for one reason or another — not sports collectibles, just items wrought with ridiculousness. Some of these things have come in handy for several last-minute Halloween costumes, but most of my retained crap can be directly attributed to acquiring something just for a zinger effect. The things we do when we’re young.