One very tricky thing about clearing shared clutter is that sometimes you don’t know how attached your partner is to different items.
For instance:
I have gone through three phases of streamlining my comic books, and it was down to about twenty. Once I confirmed with my guru of all-things-comic Corey Blake that no one would pay more than $1 for mediocre Wonder Woman, or the women of Chaos Comics – poorly written but beautifully drawn, or The Maxx – which defies description, I sat down to say goodbye.
I read a few of them. They were entertaining but I remembered most of the plots. That’s what comes of re-reading twenty sheets over and over and over again over thirty years.
Except I haven’t touched them in at least ten, except to decide whether or not to keep them.
So I have decided to take my husband’s outlook. When texting him to ask whether he wanted his Theatre History Lecture Notes, he said: “Overall, if you have to ask, the answer is no.”
So, as much as I love Evil Ernie, Lady Death or Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, the only comic book that made me pause was Lenore. And so “Lenore: noogies” shall stay in my library.
If only for the ‘little bunny foo foo” story.
