By Roy Klein

It may be apocryphal, but I’ve been hearing this story for years. When two elderly spinster sisters passed away, the authorities discovered that their entire house was filled floor to ceiling with so many carefully labeled boxes of junk that only a narrow, labyrinthine passageway remained. One of the boxes allegedly bore this label: “Pieces of string too small to keep.”

Compulsive packrats

The rest of us may not be quite that bad, but the fact is that most Americans are compulsive packrats – hordes of hoarders. We can’t seem to throw anything out. Maybe it’s the nesting instinct that compels us to stuff as much stuff as we can into every nook and cranny of our homes.

Stuff in the attic and basement

As we horde, we usually don’t worry about it much. We don’t even think about it. After all, the stuff is in the attic or the basement or the garage, so we pretty much forget we even have it. Then we decide to move, and all that stuff gathering dust suddenly becomes a huge problem – sometimes an insurmountable one. How can we stop that from happening? Well, let me throw out a couple of modest rules to live by.

6. Rules to live by

1. First, the utilitarian rule. Let’s say you come across something lying around the house:

2. If you have no clue what it is or where it came from, it’s probably useless to you. Throw it out.

3. If you know what it is but haven’t had to use it for a year, throw it out.

4. If you know what it is but can’t see yourself using it for the next year, throw it out.

5. If you think it might be something good to save for the kids, forget it. Throw it out.

6. If you think it might be an antique or something that may become a valuable collectible, think again. You have a better chance of winning the lottery. Throw it out.

I realize this isn’t as simple as it sounds. So, there are a couple of interim phases you can go through to avoid the withdrawal symptoms of throwing things out cold turkey and help ease the transition.

Try to sell it

First, take all the stuff you’re not sure about (in other words, everything) and try to sell it, either at a garage sale or at a tag sale. Personally, I prefer the garage sale because you can get more for a garage than for a bunch of tags. (Thank you, ladies and germs, you’re a great audience. I’ll be here all week).

Store it

Then, take what ever is left and put in off-site storage. You’ve seen those self-storage warehouses popping up everywhere. For a hundred bucks a month, you can rent a nice, clean, secure spot to put all that junk that you can’t seem to throw out even though you don’t want it and you couldn’t get anyone else to buy it from you. Usually, paying rent to store garbage is a good incentive for throwing the stuff out. And if you and your significant other can’t agree on what should go, then one of you can always sleep at the storage space for a couple of nights until tempers cool.

Following the utilitarian rule eventually should take care of roughly 70 % of the junk in your house.

“Nostalgia No-N0”

You can get rid of the remaining 30% by using my second rule, which I call the “Nostalgia No-No.” This takes some self-discipline. You’ve just got to keep reminding yourself that inanimate objects are merely that. That pang of sentimentality you feel when you discover the old, broken chair you sat on to rock your first-born baby to sleep 20 years ago doesn’t come from the chair. It comes from the memories inside you, which are stirred when you see the chair. You don’t need to keep the chair to preserve the memories. Throw it out!

Discard everything

It may be hard at first, but soon you’ll get used to it. In fact, you’ll eventually find it liberating. Then you’ll be discarding just about everything. Remember that ugly throw pillow your grandmother gave you? Throw the throw out.

Exceptions

As a reward, you get to keep one category of useless stuff. For me, it’s my old report cards. And my parents’ record collection. And my father’s old report cards. And my kids’ old report cards. And ticket stubs from concerts and sporting events. And political campaign buttons. Throw them out? Not on your life! So what if I don’t practice what I preach. They’re important to me.

Especially precious things

Things my kids made for and wrote to me when they were little are especially precious. I have them stored in a redweld expanding file in a file cabinet in my office. I’ve even put a label on the redweld: “Tugs at my heartstrings too small not to save.” <<

For other articles by Roy Klein visit his website www.RoyKlein.com. For further information on Roy visit the websites for his law practice (Loorak.com) and his arbitrator/mediator practice (Limacs.org).