Thursday, April 19, 2012

goodbye to Remy

Last week, we started on the renovations to our Fire Island house, so we could get it ready for the wedding.  One of the first tasks was to remove all the crap that accumulated in the house since it was last cleaned in 1985.  The owner of the house in the 1980s was a designer, with a very unique style.  Owners since then have embraced this style but, um, it's not exactly "us."

We learned from neighbors that there are three ways to get rid of weird stuff in your house: (1) put it near your garbage and hope someone takes it, (2) throw it in a dumpster at the dock on community clean-up day, or (3) donate it to the Cherry Grove community center so they can sell it in their annual fundraiser flea market.

As we started to fill the back bedroom with boxes of stuff to donate (this being our preferred option, since it benefits the community), it quickly became clear that we were going to run out of space.  So we decided to start leaving stuff out and see what went.  This was our first attempt:

The centaur's name is Remy (it says so, right on the side of his platform).  Note also the pillar in the background.  As we were putting these two items out, a guy was walking down the boardwalk.  "Hey," I said.  "Wanna gold centaur statute?"

"Sure.  My cousin would love it."  And off he went, carrying Remy.  Seriously, Remy lasted less than 10 seconds out there. 

(guy walking away with Remy)

We took our hand truck and went down to the dock to pick up a few sheets of drywall we had shipped over to replace a moldy wall, and when we came back, the pillar was gone.  So we decided a second round of fine items was in order.  Another pillar, this time with a stone urn full of glass fruit on top.

Less than a half hour later, we went out check, and apparently only the fruit was worth taking.  Oh, well. 

I think we ended up dragging the pillar back in at the end of the night.

I would like to install a hidden camera, to capture the decision-making process of the passers-by.  Can't you just see a guy stopping there, with his wagon?  He says to his partner, "Sweetie, look at this pillar, urn, and glass fruit!  What a find!"  Then the partner replies, "Dear, that pillar is far to heavy and awkward to wheel through town. Let's just take the urn and glass fruit.  We can put the urn in the garden and plant begonias in it, and the glass fruit will look lovely affixed to my drag queen wig for the Invasion this year."  Or something of that nature.  It does make me pleased to imagine this stuff going to a good home, rather than a landfill.

Facebook posts of some of these pictures have triggered something of a backlash amongst my friends.  "How could you get rid of Remy?" they all ask.  "He's AWESOME!" they exclaim.  I don't think you understand the sheer volume of this crap though.  You have seen two pillars.  In the living room, there were four more (affixed to the walls).  There are two in the dining room, one in one of the bedrooms, and four in the upstairs hallway.  So we actually have a few pillars to spare.  Remy is not the only mythical creature living at our house.  We also have some cupids, a Medusa, and some kind of crystal ball which the kids have named "Cha" and refer to as if it is some kind of deity.  I don't know, kids are weird. 

1 comment:

  1. I would love to have a conversation with the previous owner of your house. Oh and please ask Cha what the next PA Powerball numbers are going to be for me. Thanks.