Hot on the trails of Junkpile post number 001 comes Junkpile 002. I didn't think it would happen this fast.*
A quick explanation of the numbering scheme: I figure if I get to over 1000 posts on this, I'm either going to be insane or they're going to have to start calling me St. Francis of Assisi, as I will have rid myself of my worldly possessions.
Which brings us back to the prize that sits in the garbage along with last nights plate scrapings.
The Flintstone's Complete Season One, Disc 3 DVD. Not much of a loss. In fact, not much of a possession. It's the kind of thing you buy because of nostalgia- "ooh- remember the Flintstones? I love their cars with the foot power and the foot brake! Remember those wise-cracking appliances that were pterydactyls or sea turtles just working the grind, 9 to 5? I just gotta buy this and watch it."
And so you buy it, pop it in the DVD, and have a "I've turned into my parents" time-warp moment as your kids prove very capable of sitting on the couch for hours at a time watching the Flintstones. Only it's worse, because they can watch the Flintstones fifteen epissodes in a row, any dang time they want. What garbage! It's worse than that Sponge Boob, who at least has the occasional wacky hi-jinx. But then again, they can watch Sponge Boob fifteen episodes in a row, any dang time they want. All they have to do is turn on Nickelodeon, and there he is. Morning, noon, and night.
Thank heaven for four year olds, who can destroy a dvd just by looking at it, or by handling it, or by scratching it across the fireplace's brickwork. Usually, I'll make a backup copy of a DVD we've purchased, and let the kids destroy the copy. When they do, go get the original from the vault and make another copy. But some DVDs are very special, like the Flintstones. They get to use the real thing because I can count on them having a half-life that's about all I can stand.
So yesterday afternoon I walked into the living room, and there were the kids, zombied in front of Barney and Betty as the dvd struggled to fight its way through the corrupted disc, advancing a half-pixelated frame every five seconds. Didn't phase the kids one bit. They only perked up when I went over, hit the eject button, took the disc out and walked away.
"You're free now!" I siad to the my children the zombies, who awoke into and instant commotion where before was silence. I walked over to the trash can and, without ceremony, stuffed the dvd into some leftover mashed potatoes and barbeque sauce.
See-ya Fred. One disc down, three to go.
* side note, this was previously posted on a private blog, the same day as Junpile poste number 001. It would be nice if there was a cross-posting feature, but I'd probably be the only one using it, and I can copy-paste and write explanatory footnotes quicker than starting a campaign for a new fewture form the fine folks at blogger.