The Hoarded Horde

"Indeed they don't know to do right," says the LORD, "Who hoard plunder and loot in their palaces." Amos 3:10

The home of a hoarder is made a spectacle on television for our viewing pleasure, or at other times it is a joke to be enjoyed among an idle crowd. But, look, over there in the corner, there is one not laughing at the hoarder joke. It isn't that he or she doesn't get it. No, it is much worse than that, That person is among those select few who have unloaded a hoarder home. Please forgive their lack of humor in this matter; he or she simply cannot laugh at this subject any more.

Last night my thoughts turned to dark humor as I was washing DVD's in my home. You might for a moment think ol' Buck has misused a word there, another victim of that oft' blamed spellchecker, or worse, slipped one of those cogs I have been known to do, I assure you that I was not viewing DVD movies but actually washing DVD's in my sink. A lot of them. I have been doing this morning, noon, and evening for the past 2 days, and I'm almost done. However, this is the easy part of the job. Let us talk vinyl records and when you can speak of thousands without wrinkling your brow or twisting your lips in disbelief, then we can discuss my new 'hobby' for the next several weeks (maybe more). The sum total of hoarded record albums and singles from this home is more aptly described as a horde, even a hoarded horde!

The tragedy in this collection of media is not the many she never opened and enjoyed, but that I could see myself in it. A short step or two across a fine line that I cannot see, and there I am surrounded by my media collection, too hemmed in to move around my home until I can no longer watch or listen to all those hoarded albums and shows that I so wanted to own. Like many folks, I enjoy having my favorite movies, shows, and recordings at hand, ready to enjoy whenever I can. However, how close am I to that point where my collection owns me? This house has been a strong warning to those of us who worked to unload it!

Then, of course, I get the occasional return of that smell, the one in the home; that is in case I forget the lesson too soon I suppose.

Praise God for the snow day!
Bucky