More Class of 1990 Footage from a September Trip to the Parental Units in Clay, New York (I Will Be Sore After Today)

Mom had a 2nd request. Why don't you help your father straighten out the garage? Well, Mike also helped out. And we loaded his truck up. The problem was no dumps would allow us to dump on a Monday (or a Tuesday or a Wednesday). What is up with CNY? They only accept dumped materials on Thursday and Friday? Long story short...We had to act fast. Mike was smart and we ordered a dumpster for one week. 

Because I'm 1990 and it was 30 years ago this Fall that I left Amalfi Drive to Binghamton University, I decided I'd give my parents all that I could. Long story short....10 a.m. until 7 p.m., I loaded the dumpster, included all the rocks and wood left over from the great pool-break down of 2020. I don't think I've ever shifted so many rocks in my life. And even if we did load 98.7% of the garage materials that haven't been in use for years, I have to say that the garage remains a good 95% full. I guess it's because there was that much material in it. Still we made progress

Meanwhile, my mother found my Fernando senior photos and simply said, "Look how skinny you were," basically implying, "Look, you FAT ASS, MID-LIFE DOUCHEBAG, I told you it would catch up to you. You and your Vanilla Ice haircut and Sibley's discounted sweaters. You think you looked good, but you still had that widow's peak. Now go back to Price Chopper and get me more Reese's Peanut Butter Cookies, and if you can, grab me a diet coke from the fridge downstairs." 

Class of 1990. 30 years ago. Phew. Dad allowed me to throw out some of the wiffleball bats that accumulated in his garage and even a few little league hats (cough cough - hence, the dumpster). Cynde is the one that found the jar of what I guessed were 40 year-old pickled peppers, but dad said, "No, that is is venison sausage." 

In the dumpster it went. Note: We did not smash the pickled jar because we were afraid of the smell that would come from it.

We seriously only worked on the garage and that was enough for a 12-hour day. Kudos to Papi Butch who simply allowed it all to go forward with little complaint. Meanwhile, this 48-year old is looking at the 18-year old version of himself and wondering, "Who the #@#$ is that kid? He doesn't even look real!"

And that, my friend, is aging.