When I retired a few years ago, I began cleaning out my garage.   I bought a shredder and got rid of boxes of old financial documents that I had held on to for over 20 years.

I went through bins of souvenirs I saved throughout the years and said goodbye to much of it, saving only the most special ones.

At that time I thought I had done a decent enough job even though the garage looked just about as full as it had after I did my purge.

Three and a half years later, I am going through another cleansing of my material items.  When we decided to have our house painted inside and out at the start of the new year, I wasn’t expecting to have to pack up so much of our loose stuff—the stuff that is on bookshelves, in cupboards, on top or bookcases, etc.

In one day, my wife and I filled 20 banker’s boxes and still had more to pack but no more boxes were left.

Underneath our entertainment center was an archaeological dig.  There were videotapes, audio cassettes, DVDs, and CDs.

As I perused the titles, a thought crossed my mind.  I kept all of this with the intention of watching and listening to it again—but I never did.

Things that I thought were so important to me such as rare “This is Your Life” episodes and old Laker and Dodger games were no longer vital to my life.

It’s as if I was keeping a Brian Crosby museum of TV shows, sporting events and movies that I have seen in my life, but will never see again.

And the same concept applies to books.  When I was a young adult and began buying books for myself, my very first piece of furniture was a bookcase with glass doors.  I was so proud of that purchase for I now had something to showcase all the books that I read.

In old movies rich people had complete rooms called libraries where from floor to ceiling books were stacked.   Often there was a cool sliding ladder device that could be wheeled around the stacks when looking for books.

I fantasized that one day when I owned a house I would have a library room.  Today, I have four bookcases as well as built-in shelves on either side of my fireplace.  It looks nice.  But it is just a nice storage area.  Neither my wife or I re-read books.

Except for holiday-themed media, I don’t watch or listen to any of this stuff.   The songs that I do hear repeatedly are those on my workout playlists on my smart phone.

So, instead of restacking the shelves of these old books, my wife and I selected more than half of our books to give away.

One might think such a task would be easy, but it’s not that simple.

The 2020 pandemic shutdown ignited everyone to clean out their houses.  Suddenly, Goodwill stores are no longer accepting books, clothing, you name it.  Even they were throwing things out.

Libraries as well have applied the brakes on donations limiting one bag per customer per day.  At that rate, it would take me to the 4^th of July to dispose of all my books.

Luckily, used book stores have open arms for people like me because I am giving them inventory—free of charge.   I wouldn’t take store credit if they offered it.  What for?  To buy more books?

People under 40 years old including our own children do not use hardbound books or physical videos just as they don’t write checks or use cash.  They don’t even have satellite dishes or cable to watch things; shows are solely viewed via streaming on their phones.  

Videotapes, CDs, DVDs are like the horse and buggy to them.

I’m being kind to my children by getting rid of this stuff now so that they don’t have to when I’m gone.  Besides, there’ll be plenty of my belongings left for them to throw out.  I’m still clinging to my Tex Avery cartoon collection.