By Lee Cataluna
Advertiser Columnist

There has to be some sort of psychological theory about the way a family keeps its garage. The content and condition of the most visible part of a family's private life say so much about the people who live there.

It's, like, if the eyes are the window to the soul, then a garage is the window to a house.

Or something like that.

There's a row of houses near Kahala Mall on the Kaimuki side that have the tidiest garages you've ever seen. Not a drop of oil stains the cement floor. If a leaf dare blow into the driveway, Auntie is out there in seconds with her dustpan and broom showing it who's boss. Makes you wonder how immaculate the house is. Makes you wonder if Auntie lies awake at night listening for a rogue leaf to blow over from the neighbor's mango tree. Makes you wonder if she lets anybody eat in the parlor (probably not).

There are more than enough garages on the other end of the spectrum. There is at least one, maybe two, in every neighborhood: garages that hold more newspaper clippings than The Advertiser's library; garages stacked to the rafters with bloated, soggy cardboard boxes; garages stuffed wall-to-wall with various car parts that, added all together, would make a fleet of vehicles; and the worst ones of all, garages with so much of all of the above that the actual car (a rust-eaten Chevy up on blocks) has to be parked in the yard. It's hard to say with any sort of diplomacy what those kind of garages may indicate about the family in that house, but when you spot one of those, you pretty much know the Brady Bunch doesn't live there.

Some families take a much more functional approach to using the garage. The space is less about storage and more about partying. These families have the requisite three appliances in the garage: a freezer for fish, a fridge for beer, and a can crusher in the corner by the garbage cans. There's a folding card table that comes out on Friday nights, a set of mismatched folding chairs and permanent burn marks on the cement from the mosquito punk.

Other families make a statement with what's on the garage, not in it. Like antlers from various hunting trips. Or fishtails nailed up in a pattern from smallest to largest. Or the surf-and-turf Nanakuli motif with both fishtails AND antlers.

How about those icicle Christmas lights that stay up all year? Or the faded remnants of birthday streamers that linger until the cellophane tape holding them up turns yellow and brittle.

It used to be unheard of in Hawai'i, but more and more houses now sport automatic garage doors. What's even more unusual — more and more people actually use them!

Sure, it's their prerogative, but it deprives the rest of us from the fun of taking a look at what's in there and imagining what's really going on.

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.