If a person hangs around long enough in this old life there comes a time when you have to move your things from one place to another.
When you are first getting started early on, this does not take much effort and you can load up a few boxes of old tennis trophies, some foreign coins, a fishing pole, several changes of clothes plus the garter from your best friend’s wedding and hit the road to new adventures.
But the longer we hang around this life the more “stuff” we accumulate and the harder it is to move each time new places call to us.
For some people like my friend, Uncle Sy, it is easy to see that his collection grows because he is an avid purveyor of garage sales and a truckload is added to his treasures every week.
But for others like Ol’ Dutch, the only explanation must be that my stuff is breeding in the storage unit.
Why just the other day Miss Trixie got in her head to go sort out some of the storage unit and when she opened the door I was sure I heard amorous conversations coming from our stuff.
About 10 seconds of Trixie staring into the abyss with a blank expression on her face and down went the door and we left the perverted storage items to their own devices.
Now being an old tight Scot at heart, Ol’ Dutch has been thinking about how to eliminate my storage costs in Colorado and get all of those items down to “free storage” down in my big barn in Texas.
I’ve been wracking my brain for ideas. And if you never have seen a wracked brain before it’s not a pleasant sight to behold.
Looking online I found a plethora of people willing to move my items and all of the advertisements said “cheap” or “reasonable” which I found out is a relative term subject to individual interpretation.
But the Internet being what it is took the search that I had done on moving and began to solicit Ol’ Dutch with everything from “moving vans” to “moving experiences,” “moving picture shows” to “U-hauls,” and “moving emotional stories about lost dogs” to “bowel movements.”
For it seems that any clickity-clack of the keyboard these days is kept track of by the great Internet salesman in the skies who thinks it’s his duty to read your mind and send you information you didn’t even ask for.
Now while it is frustrating to get this never-ending supply of unwanted banter, it does come in handy when you want to find out how to do something like do open-heart surgery with a toothpick or make a grilled cheese sandwich to perfection.
Miss Trixie went on a Girls Week Out a little while ago and left Ol’ Dutch to his own devices. It was in the middle of hunting season which means that I made due with the standard grilled cheese and tomato soup dinner about every day.
There’s nothing better than a good grilled cheese sandwich --- especially one that is cooked to perfection according to the Internet guidelines. And, I only have one thing to say about that: too much of anything ain’t good and that is especially true when it is a copious amount of cheese.
Good thing I had that article about BM’s to fall back on. And that just goes to show you, the Internet knows it all and even supplies ignorant us with information that it knows we will need later on.
Kevin Kirkpatrick and his Yorkie, Cooper, fish, hunt, ATV or hike daily. His email is [email protected] Additional news can be found at www.troutrepublic.com or on Twitter at TroutRepublic.