Goodwill Hunting
Used stuff doesn't hold its former value ... or any value, for that matter.
By Deborah Paul
The best part about moving is that you get rid of junk that’s been hanging around for too long. The worst part about not moving is that the accumulation grows, eventually filling every available storage space until the very air you breathe is choked with dust from all manner of old furniture and big boxy TVs, schoolbooks and faded artwork.
We have lived in our current house for close to 20 years, and every redecorating project has resulted in new piles of detritus occupying the closets and basement. Transforming two little-boy rooms into an adult guest room and a cute grandkid room provided the impetus to act. The very thought of more mattresses, nightstands, and desk chairs in the basement was more than I could take. So, early last winter, even though I wasn’t moving, I hired a mover.
At that time, two basement storerooms were populated with a plaid chair-and-a-half (and matching ottoman-and-a-half); twin headboards with a matching dresser but missing the coordinating bedside table that my son sold with his cheap dorm furniture; 16 wall pictures, including a poster featuring the lyrics to country songs popular in the ’70s; an upholstered mirror; two upended coffee tables; seven lamps ranging from chrome to crystal; two Addams Family– style chandeliers; and what’s left of the lovely furniture removed from my mother’s house upon her death seven years ago.
Trouble is, used stuff doesn’t hold its former value ... or any value, for that matter. Old furniture is like old people, I’ve decided: out of style, no longer relevant, reliant on death panels to hurry their demise.
But still, I went on a mad binge, compelled by cleanliness and what I feared might be a sign. Was my own death imminent? Was I subconsciously anticipating my children laboriously poring through my possessions, turning me into the burden every parent dreads? When my husband’s aunt passed away, her children traveled from Israel to clean out the house, a task requiring a commercial Dumpster in the driveway for three days.
