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There is the valley of rusty drill bits, behold the chest of 1,000 sizes of bolt, and the misty field of scrap plywood and 2x4's.
One day all this shit will be yours, ya poor bastard.
My father and mother were saving clothing from the 60s and 70s in many boxes for their grand kids to wear. Mice made nests out of them in the garage. At least some mammals benefited.
Woof, all those bell bottoms are dust in the wind.
It probably was even worse than that. My mom died. My dad was dating again. He is going on a first date in the 2000s wearing something colorful from the 60s. (I wasn't there.) His date goes something like, "Nope. We are getting you a new shirt." My dad wasn't a hippie, but he wore things that looked like wallpaper from the 60s that were hippiesh. Think Brady Bunch.
E: Also, I'm certainly no fashion maven, but the shit my dad wore was out so far out. I didn't really give a shit what I wore as long as it was bland. My dad was wearing massively outdated flashy shit.
E2: Plaid was as flashy I've ever gotten in my life. Maybe a striped dress shirt. Other than that, solid colors. And not too bright.
I have a warehouse I'm converting to condos so far I've framed one and have realized how much junk I have
Yeah, went out to work on the project car the other day and I didn't realize how much shit I have piled around that car. Tools, parts, junk, etc.
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