| By Ralph SeeramAs I am writing this article I am tired, exhausted and practically out of energy. In the show business the slogan is”the show must go on”. Keeping that in mind, I feel I must keep my obligation to my readers by producing this column. This week was a life changing experience, one of those experiences one never forgets.Most immigrants to the United States pursue the American dream; get a higher education for yourself and kids, buy a house and acquire car, you must have a car. It’s an American tradition. It’s funny the way you are judged by in the U.S. Generally you are not judged by your job or social status but by your car parked in your driveway.If you are looking to purchase a house in a particular area, you look to see the type of cars in the neighbourhood. The higher end expensive cars mean better neighbourhood. It is as simple as that. During my years in the U. S. I can safely say that I have “been there done that”. I did the house or I should say the houses thing, went through the car thing, got the children a higher education, one an attorney the other an engineer,Jerseys NFL China, have two grand kids, end up in a modest five-bedroom four-bath empty house and you say now what. Where do you go from here?You do what most Americans my age do; you reverse course, you downsize, and so I opted to sell my house and I purchased a small condo.Yes, no more high real estate taxes, taking care of a swimming pool, manicured lawn and all that good stuff. I am going to make my life simple in a condo; I can now travel without a worry.So this week I had to move to make way for the new owners of my house, and that is where my nightmare began— yes a nightmare and sleepless nights.At first the move was simple, pack you stuff, get a truck, and hire some muscle to do the heavy lifting. It turned out not to be easy as that. After three Canter size truck loads, it seemed as if nothing had moved from the house. I then realize that I had fallen into the trap of being a “junkie”. Over the years I have accumulated stuff that had no functional use for me. It was just buying stuff and laying them down.I went to clear my closet and I was embarrassed. I had so many shirts, that I am embarrassed to tell you the number. Let’s say my shirts ran into three figures; that’s not including golf and tee shirts. I found shirts still with their store tags.Don’t even let me tell you about the pants situation which also ran into the hundreds. I could have practically shopped in my closet. There were so many jeans and cargo shorts still intact with their store tags. I don’t even want to go to the other non clothing stuff.Suffice to say we threw out about a 30 forty-gallon bags of “junk”. These were good stuff but unused. The Americans have a saying, “If you did not touch it for a year you don’t need it”. A barrel of clothing has already been packed for Guyana and it seems as if we can pack two more barrels.My garage was a total disaster. Generally what you don’t need in the house you stored in the garage. There was old tube television which even the Salvation Army refused as a donation. Everybody watches flat screen T V they say. So out went those obsoletes as well as a few small microwaves and other household stuff.You see, this is a very consumer-oriented society. You buy new stuff, but refuse to throw the old stuff away because “it is still good”. What we did not realize is good for what; we are not going to use it.By day three of the move I texted my Realtor. “I need more time to move; I need an extension to the contract. She texted back, “Buyer will not grant an extension, they have to move also from their apartment”.I told her that I was dying from exhaustion after going to bed at 3am for a few nights. She text back “Be positive; look at the bright side of things”. I am thinking bright for her. She means after all she is getting some USD$10.000 of my money in commissions.So we got a larger truck and hired two more strong hired hands to expedite the packing and moving. By this time my love of my life, my cat Chelsea, is depressed. She sensed what’s going on and was moping around the house. So after five truck loads and nearly three dozen giant size bags of “garbage” I am done at this time of writing.There were some gems in all of the packing and confusion. I found my first Press Card when I worked for the Evening Post and Sunday Argosy. It was signed by late Police Commissioner Carl Austin. Then there is the one from the Guyana Graphic signed by Monty Smith and a letter from the old Guyana Broadcasting Service signed by the late great Editor, Cecil Griffith.There was also my Guyana identification card, old passport as well as my NIS card. Yes I did pay into NIS and someone suggested I should claim my NIS benefits and donate it to charity in Guyana.A young couple bought my house. It’s their first house and they are very excited. I can overhear them talking about all the plans for the house. Good for them. But I am thinking, “Wait when the initial euphoria is over, wait when he wants to have a beer and watch baseball, and the wife says you have to mow the lawn.“Don’t even talk about maintaining the pool. Wait when you get that high electric bill for air conditioning such a large house; and the tax at the end of the year.Me, I will be sitting on the upper deck of my condo enjoying the serenity of the lake below, writing my future Kaieteur News articles, and in August while he is in Florida’s 95 degrees heat mowing his lawn, I will be with Mara and Gregory and Errol enjoying some labba and other wild meat in Canje, Berbice. Yes, after the “storm comes the calm”. I am moving to a new stage in life. My grandson has already told me he wants’ me to buy a boat for the lake.By the way, did I mention that my new garage is larger than the one I am leaving? Well I promise myself and you my readers not to be a “junkie” again.Ralph Seeram can be reached at email: [email protected] |
