FAMILY MATTERS
One man's junk ... has spilled into my garage
By Ka'ohua Lucas
"Ouch!" I yelled, as I stumbled over a bench clamp in the middle of the garage. The tool had rusted over the years, causing it to blend with the asphalt floor.
"Sheez, that's dangerous!" I said, half-kicking it in the direction of my husband. "Please tell me you don't plan to keep that!"
"This is a perfectly good device," he said with a grin. "I'm gonna keep it."
In every family there's at least one pack rat. My husband is one.
Over the years he has accumulated boxes of old record albums, outdated paperwork, dust-covered board games, tax returns more than 10 years old, empty paint cans, tools that no longer function, an obsolete typewriter, decades-old broken furniture he "plans to repair," mismatched bodysurfing fins and unused camping equipment.
The list is endless.
He keeps everything and won't get rid of anything.
One morning when the men were gone, I grabbed a couple of 33-gallon trash bags and went to work. In one hour, I had two bags filled of unused junk, both labeled Goodwill.
The next day I hoisted the bags into the van for delivery. Hmmm — they certainly seemed a lot lighter. I deposited the bags and began to scout the garage.
Discreetly tucked away on a shelf were several items I had intended to give away: a wooden coffee-cup tree stand; an unused teapot with its straw handles unraveling; a green and white jacket our youngest has outgrown; and a tarnished, chipped Christmas ornament.
"Pray tell, why are you keeping this stuff?" I asked.
"Call me a sentimental fool. Call me narcissistic," he replied, shoving the items back on to the shelf.
Much of what my husband keeps, he forgets he has.
There is an 'olelo no'eau that describes a forgetful person who looks everywhere for his possessions and eventually finds the item: "A! Like aku la me ke kama'a o Keawe."
Translated it means: "Ah! Keawe's sandals."
This Hawaiian proverb describes Keawe and his servant, who sailed to Ka'u and traveled upland to Kalae.
When the pair arrived at a cluster of sharp lava rocks, Keawe requested his sandals.
The servant looked at his empty hands and asked the chief to wait while he ran back to see if he had dropped them along the way.
On the path, the servant met a group of travelers and asked if by chance they had found a pair of sandals.
The group pointed to the servant's chest. Tied around his neck were his chief's sandals.
My husband is a lot like a prisoner of his possessions. His stuff has taken over his life, and he never can seem to find that missing item.
However, he made great strides last weekend. And that was to rid the garage of clutter.
I stood on the lanai surveying the piles of stuff to be thrown or given away.
"Hey, Lovey," I said. "I'm quite impressed with your progress."
"Quite frankly, my dear," he said, "one man gathers what another man spills, to quote Jerry Garcia."
Reach Ka'ohua Lucas at Family Matters, 'Ohana section, The Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com; or fax 525-8055.
