THE CLEANEST GARAGE IN TOWN

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It’s simply amazing how much stuff manages to creep into my garage without my knowledge.

The other day, I decided it was time to clean out the garage, and I am fairly sure I did not place most of that stuff in there. In fact, I’m pretty sure most of that stuff isn’t mine.

The decision to clean out my garage was made when my wife tried to pull one of our cars into it. We have a two-car garage, and it doesn’t bode well when you can’t even get a single car in it, unless you plan on parking on top of your lawnmower.

I have to credit my wife with one thing: she managed to get me to do two chores, without realizing that I was actually being giving cleaning edicts. Pay attention, ladies: this one is pretty smooth. She came to me one day and said, “You know, the next time we get the cars washed, I think I’ll start parking mine in the garage.”

Seemed like a simple enough request, but in reality what she had just done was slyly command me to not only wash her car, but also clean out the garage.

Being the blindly subservient schlub that I am, I headed on out and washed the cars. Once finished, it occurred to me that in order to park her freshly washed car in the garage, I would have to clean it out as well. I am fairly sure that she sat inside sipping fruity drinks, laughing an evil laugh as her manservant husband carried out her bidding. I think she may be testing me before she sets me out to do the heavy work for a world takeover.

So I headed out into the garage and surveyed my task. The most efficient solution would have been to (a) rent a bulldozer (b) level the garage and (c) start from scratch. I was fairly sure that I would not be able to get a bulldozer on short notice, so I figured the first step would be to start a pile of junk that I would throw out.

That was a huge step towards garage cleanliness, because there was a tremendous amount of stuff that was prime for garbage collection. Among the items: a shower door that, to my knowledge, did not fit any showers I owned or had owned; a For Sale By Owner sign with a phone number that was definitely not mine; some random PVC piping (and you all know me well enough that I should not even think about venturing into a plumbing situation); about 74,000 plastic plant containers. There were all kinds of other things in the pile, but I will not go through it all because (a) it might bore you and (b) I may incriminate myself regarding some DHEC violations.

So the next step was to organize the remaining garage items. My first positive move was to maximize the use of two shelves that were living in my garage. In what is one of the more inefficient ways to store shelves, I had them just sitting around, with the backs facing out. Seems that a more effective way to utilize shelves is to, oh, I don’t know, actually put things on the shelves, maybe?

So I turned the shelves around and begin moving all kinds of stuff to the newly acquired storage space. I moved all kinds of stuff off the floor – tennis rackets, paint cans, Capt. Lazslo. I know what you’re saying – you’re saying, “Paint cans? Why, how many paint cans, Mike?”

Well, the answer is simple: 18. Eighteen cans of paint, some of which are colors that are no longer visible in my house. And why, you ask, would I keep those cans? Because I, like any other self-respecting male in the universe, know that it is – or at least should be – a federal crime to have a garage without a bunch of useless paint cans. It just adds to the ambience.

OK, so you’re probably wondering who Capt. Lazslo is as well. Capt. Lazslo is a life-size plaster head of a swarthy sea captain, mounted on a lovely piece of authentic faux driftwood. Capt. Lazslo came into my life when my wife (then-girlfriend) moved into an apartment in college and found the classic antique. Capt. Lazslo came to live in my fraternity house, where I am pretty sure my wife wishes he would have stayed. But Capt. Lazslo is family, so he stays.

After a little more organizing and a whole lot of sweeping, my garage really came into its own. There is actually space for both cars now, and I am gunning to keep it so that we can always have room in the garage, at least for my wife’s clean car. Well, at least for her car and Capt. Lazslo.