West with Wheaties

When pioneers moved west they loaded all their belongings in wagons, carts, and onto pack mules. They packed everything they had for the trip – sets of fine dinnerware that had been passed down from generation to generation, stacks of books, several outfits of clothing, etc.. East coast newspapers, encouraged by the government to write glowing articles about westward expansion, reported that the way west was easy and that no complications should be expected. United States politicians and wealthy entrepreneurs wanted the land populated and would have said anything to get hordes of people to stretch the boundaries of the country beyond the Mississippi.
The trip was anything but easy as the pioneers found out. Wagons had to be disassembled to be lowered down sides of mountains, carts had to be pulled through sand and dense rock, mules fainted under the constant weight of the cargo they were saddled with and some had to be eaten when the food source was depleted. The majority of the possessions the pioneers started the journey out with never made it to their destination. The trail west was littered with dishes, picture frames, furniture, and clothing. Only the bare necessities actually made it to the end of the trail.
I recently moved across town and found myself in much the same situation. I foolishly believed I could easily transport 18 years worth of belongings to a new house, unpack the items quickly, and go on with barely a hic-up in my daily routine. While attempting to settle into the home, I’ve had to throw away mountains of books, miles of knick-knacks, and a river of clothing. Why I was hanging on to a pair of jeans I wore when I was a junior in high school is a mystery. Why did I pack three bottles of aspirin with only three tablets in each bottle? Why do I have two sets of china? I don’t cook and have never formally entertained. Unless you count having people over for Ring-Dings and a liter of Pepsi formal dining, and even that doesn’t require china. Many of these useless items had to be gotten rid of in order to make the move.
Still in the process of unpacking, my home looks a lot like an episode of the show Hoarders. I’m ashamed and embarrassed that I have so many unopened boxes of Wheaties. I love Cap Ripkin and years ago purchased boxes of cereal with his image on the front. I guess I thought someday I’d sell the items on eBay. Why do I have so many decorative pillows for my bed? Has anyone ever equated the number of decorative pillows one has with personal wealth? I find I’m now having to take the example set by the tired, misinformed pioneer and am getting rid of even more items I have no place for in the new home. With the exception of the unopened Cal Ripkin cereal boxes. I mean – come on! It’s Cal Ripkin.