Ever looked around your place and wondered, “Hey, do I really need all this shit?” Like, say, that chest of drawers your grandmother gave you? Or the theatre chairs you rescued from a movie theatre in Selma, Alabama? Or that six-foot-tall carpeted cat tower that none of your cats will even sniff, much less sit on anymore? Well, here’s a good way to find out (whether you really need that shit).
First, decide to move yourself without hiring any outside help. Borrow a friend’s pick-up truck rather than renting a 20 foot U-Haul. Why? Because you are a MAN and you are SELF-SUFFICIENT. Now carry the belonging in question down a hallway the length of a football field and, after a hairpin corner, try to squeeze it into the elevator or down the stairs. Then drag the item through your parking garage, load it into the back of the borrowed pick-up, and attach approximately sixty-five bungee cords to secure it. So far so good? If so, rest your head against the steering wheel until the heart palpitations stop. Now drive the belonging in question 15 miles northwest (an hour and a half in Los Angeles traffic) to your new apartment. Unhook the bungee cords and haul your chest-of-drawers-theater-chairs-cat-tower through the parking garage and up a set of half-turn stairs (there’s no elevator here, sorry). Finally, lug it down another walkway and into your new living room, unless it goes upstairs, in which case you’ve got another staircase climb.
If you got through all that, congratulations: you and your belonging were meant to be. Like, say,
Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon Courteney Cox and David Arquette Jim Carrey and Jenny McCarthy Romeo and Juliet. But if you didn’t, if at any point you looked down in contempt at this “thing” you were transporting, if you ever began to conceive of it as a symbol of human waste and consumption, if you pulled up to the first industrial dumpster you saw and threw it headfirst into the abyss, then your answer is, “No, you didn’t really need that shit.”
p.s. Hello, Woodland Hills!