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Moving Stuff

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This year I moved from a large house in Chicago to a small cottage in Michigan.  I had no choice but to deal with the STUFF.  It was not just my own STUFF but, but my deceased parent's STUFF and much of my grandparents STUFF as well.  My solution had always been to stow it in the attic.  Now there wasn't going to be an attic. It was almost too much to bear. 

I realized I had to rent storage.  It was like admitting I needed a shrink.  Upon consulting the Chicago Yellow Book, I found thirty- two
pages of storage companies.  Self-storage, mini-storage, public storage, pick-up and delivery storage.  Air conditioned, heated, climate controlled storage.  Storage with video surveillance, drive-up, fireproof, sprinkler system, computer monitored, round the clock access.

It was all terribly confusing until I turned a page and saw an ad for A-American Storage, touting themselves as "America's storage pioneers. "This struck a patriotic chord in me.  After all, what could be more American? 

I have since accepted the rent I pay for storage as a natural part of life.  I tell myself it's just the same as paying for a child at college or a deadbeat son's apartment in Bucktown.  My stored menagerie has become an old friend.  No wonder the storage business is going through the roof - no pun intended.  It may be the growth industry of today.

There is a storage solution for every sub-group in our culture. 

Is your STUFF complaining about din from the adjacent highway?  Move it to a storage space in the country.  Is your STUFF lonely?  Take it to "Storage City," where it can fraternize with other STUFF, close in age and interests.  Are antiques your game? Check out a mature storage community.  Is your STUFF forgetting what kind of STUFF it is? Move it into special "senior"assisted storage.

I've even noticed the new motels of a certain chain look like a combination motel and storage container.  I'll bet it's for people who
want to sleep with their stuff.  If I wrote their advertising campaign, it would be  "Stay With Your Stuff at Motel 26."  Today, I passed an
establishment just off the interstate called  "Ye Olde Storage Inn."  It must be for Brits who want to lift a pint with their stuff.  What's next?  Our country will have no room for homes OR motels. 

There will only be shopping centers and storage facilities.  Most people won't even sit on that new couch, or watch that state of the art TV, they'll dump it right into the bin. There will be no more mountain ranges. Only snow-topped landfills and glowing heaps of micro-wave ovens.

STUFF will be everywhere, supplanting the animals, poisoning the earth. Trees won't grow, oceans will become desserts of half sunk STUFF, antennas bobbing.  There will be no more forests, just mounds of clothing, certain garments decomposing back into plants. 

No-iron shirts?  They'll sit forever in unwrinkled glory, knowing they are very, very late for work.

Streets will be so loaded with shoes, there will be no place to walk. The meek won't inherit the earth, the STUFF will.  Here's one more reason to continue the space program. Where else can we go? Specialized flights will be offered for people and their STUFF.  "Send your STUFF to outer space," one billboard will suggest.  "Get launched with your laptop," another will advise.

Wait a minute.  If we did that, the solar system would consist of people and their STUFF, orbiting among all those stars so right for wishing. It would be a crime not to make one teeny-weeny wish upon a star.  What would we wish for?  More STUFF of course!

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