The muggy ride through the neighborhood this morning reminded me this day was different. It is Saturday and people bring out their junk and place it on the front lawns. My safety concern is the slow processions of old and young alike parading before the lawns strewn with stuff.
So why do people do this? Why are they trying to get rid of Aunt Sallies’ sideboard that has been lugged around for years. It was always too big for any room in the house. Was it kept for the sentimental reason? Was it kept hoping to find on Antique Roadshow that the value of this dark wooden monstrosity that never matched any other furniture would pay for retirement? So it has been sitting in the basement or garage until today when it was dragged out and displayed on the lawn. So much for sentiment Aunt Sallie.
Bits and pieces of furniture, toys, old computer pieces, appliances, awful paintings, mirrors, and cloths laying all over the grass with the family sitting on folding chairs deciding prices of their display. Uncle Henry’s wool tweed sports coat goes for fifty cents. Betty’s crib sells for a buck. A beat up mirror was sold for two dollars.
I’d worry about wearing someone else s clothes without them being fumigated and decontaminated. Who knows what happen to Uncle Henry? Would Betty’s crib meet today’s safety regulations? The mirror will only become an unrealized project to refinish the frame.
As I go pass block upon block with yard after yard of these displays of wasted consumption, I realize what is really going on.
These lowly homo sapiens are making offerings to the PODS. I didn’t personally see any of the PODS land, but they must have gobbled up all the “stuff” because the yards where empty today.
These silly humans don’t realize it is already too late.
The PODS have infiltrated the minds and hearts with their secret weapon, the iPOD.
So the next time you reach for your ear, remember. They know where you are.