But the last time we moved, about two years ago, it took us two gigantic moving trucks. Two of them! There are three of us — me, my spousal unit, and a progeny. That’s it. And yet, we needed two enormo-trucks.

What is all this stuff that we accumulate?

Well, I can tell you, because rather than get rid of any of it, we packed it all.

It is what you’d call … junk.

But what if I weren’t American? I’d still age.

When you’re young, the most important thing to pack is tunes. These days, all the tunes fit into an MP3 player the size of a postcard. So it’s not as if a lot of space is taken up with boxes of cassette tapes.

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Of course, when you’re young, you don’t have money to go to restaurants. So you don’t need to bring a couple of sets of nice clothes for your hard-won reservation at Le Snoot.

With age comes the most severe aspect of JIC syndrome: an obsession with the Options, which becomes complicated because of the changeable weather (you actually might even check the weather before you go), not to mention the different things you might do and how you might dress for them. You could spend a night at the theater or take a walk in an English garden or — jeez, oh Pete, am I really talking about the theater and gardens?

Did I really say “jeez, oh Pete”?

Excuse me. I have to bury my head in my hands now.

I’ll be back after I stop wondering where I went.

Hmm … I wonder how much a leather thong costs.