I, like legions of others, am embarking on that ubiquitous new-year ritual . . . yep, you guessed it . . . de-cluttering.
Today, I turned my sights to the ottoman and it's dirty, little secret . . . it houses a herd of dinosaurs, known in aged circles as VHS tapes. Yes, tapes. We bought tapes, can you imagine?
Space-wasters, easily damaged, and overly heavy when stored en masse. . . extinct some time ago, though many still lurk around my house.
Culling them today was an illuminating experience, bringing forth many, many questions. Like . . .
When in the world did I like that movie?
Have we ever watched this movie?
Why don't we ever watch this movie?
Why can't I just be honest with myself and admit that I don't get Doctor Zhivago!
So I thinned the herd considerably. (By the way, Hubbo, if you're reading this, you need to review your John Wayne collection, methinks.)
And I am left with still a number of these darned things . . . and yet more questions . . .
Are we the only ones with a VCR still hooked up?
And, the most burning question . . .
Why can't I let go of all of them?
Pathetic, I am.
What about you?