Saturday, March 24, 2012

1-800-JUNK-THERAPY (3.24.2012)

In my opinion, there is nothing more perfect than a business that is essential for its time. When you, as a consumer, feel that great click between what you need and what a company delivers. And even better when the click equals less junk in my life, magically removed by two exceedingly polite, funny, helpful young men who drive up to my life and haul it away.
I made a deal with Nick (left) and Caleb (right): I would let them take a picture of the elliptical trainer in my garage for their scavenger hunt, if I could take their photo for my blog.
Meet Caleb and Nick, the two junk therapists from
1-800-GOT-JUNK who drove to my house this morning to help me recycle and otherwise move forward in my life. For me, getting rid of stuff is pure therapy. And today was especially therapeutic: today was the day I finally said goodbye to several items that belonged to my Mom. Like Mom's antique sofa. I restored it once and her Newfie puppy, Stanley, put his own finishing touches on it using his incisors and canines. And a raccoon coat that was beyond revival or repair. Understandably, I just couldn't bear to make a decision about these items back in August, and they had taken up a semi-permanent residence in my garage. Not really a good look.

But it wasn't all Mom's stuff.

There were the Department 56 Christmas houses -- which in the past two years had moved from closet to storage to garage -- and which this morning assumed their Final Destination in the truck. But they were not alone: a bizarre collection of baskets, part of a fence and only God knows what else, also found a new home in the truck.

One of the best things about 1-800-JUNK is their commitment to recycling what you give them. The Department 56 houses will go to a place that will resell them and donate any proceeds to charity. The same for the sofa: it will be sold as is or possibly refinished so it doesn't end up in a landfill. I love that. To me, that is the feel-good equation of the century: I get big pieces of junk out of my life and someone else who digs this stuff gets to enjoy it and give it another life. Cool.

My garage still needs some work, but I have the chance to make progress now that the ghosts of objects past have been eradicated. Which reminds me: I totally forgot to tell Caleb and Nick that I have a storage locker (blessedly, a small one) full of furniture from my Mom's old apartment. It needs to be cleaned out. So I guess I'll be seeing them again soon.

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