By: Bob Adner

My name is Bob Adner, and I am a native of Northern New York originally, Carthage to be specific. I came to Buffalo in 1958 as a blaster on the Power Project. I got married here and have four children and ten grandchildren. I became a widower in February 2025.

I am retired and spend most of my time writing annoying articles such as these. 

It’s time I decided. Time to carry out one of my New Year’s Resolutions, to clean out and organize my garage. Usually, my organization consists of taking down everything I have hanging on one wall, pulling all the nails out, straightening them, pounding them in the opposite wall and rehanging everything. 

Then I sweep the floor, get myself a beer and settle down in a lawn chair and smugly survey all my handy work. 

This year, I decided I would do the job right! I am going to really clean the place out. I will get rid of forty years of accumulated junk. Really overhaul the place! I made my intentions known to my wife. I heard something between a snort and a snicker, with a sarcastic look thrown in. She’s heard it all before. Her comment, “You haven’t thrown anything out in forty-five years”. I told her if I heard any more from her, I know one thing that would get thrown out! 

I fired up a portable heater, got a cup of coffee and sat down in a chair to plan my work. I must do this right. Where should I start? Let’s clean out all the tool benches first. Get everything out where I can see it. The benches consist of various cupboards and shelves on the wall and on the floor, four small cupboards plus an old steel desk that I have my vise bolted to. Underneath the desk in the space where your legs go, I keep my compressor. 

About two hours later I had everything in the middle of the garage floor. My wife walked out on her way shopping. She looked at it and took up snickering where she had left off before. “Looks like an explosion in Jake’s Junkyard!” I told her goodbye and hoped she didn’t get a flat tire. She handed me a piece of paper. “Call this number when you get a chance.” I put the paper in my pocket. My wife honked the horn. I stuck my head out the door. “You want me to pick up a couple more garbage cans while I’m out”?

Laughing hysterically, she backed out of the driveway. Now I hoped she did get a flat tire! I pulled the paper out of my pocket and looked at it. It stated, “Hank’s Haulers. We’ll clean out your garage and attic.” I think I’ll find out where she went shopping and let the air out of all her tires. 

I sat down in the chair and surveyed all my “ treasures” trying to figure what should be thrown out and what should be saved. I couldn’t throw out that storm door closer. I got that when Sears was still doing business with Roebuck. Probably any door it fits, is outdated now. I spotted a good dog collar. It was last in use four dogs ago. It’s better to save it, my granddaughters might get a dog some day and need an experienced collar.

Then a thought flashes through my mind. This is only Saturday. Garbage doesn’t go out until Monday night. Too big a gap! I would still be able to sort through the castoffs and smuggle them back on board. Kinda like a burglary in reverse; stealing from myself to put it back in my garage. (Some sort of redundancy there I think). Maybe I’ll put this job off till Monday — of next year. I sure hope my wife didn’t buy extra garbage cans.