Bonanza of valuables found while cleaning out the shed

While I don’t fully comprehend the adrenaline rush that comes with shopping, I came a little closer to understanding the phenomenon as I revelled in an afternoon of shopping at my favourite store, Chez Poncho.

Unheated, uninsulated and decorated to a point that only a plaid wearing, Aqua Velva-emanating, bearded man could understand, I took advantage of the double-digitplus temperatures last weekend and tackled the trash heap known as my shed. Among the full case of beer I found hiding among the empties, it felt like a very early edition of Christmas and although there was no fat man in red velvet pants handing out neatly wrapped gifts, I did find a few examples of velvet nonetheless and we might as well start there.

Located next to the partially melted Ron Popeil food dehydrator and beside my Viking wine holder was a missing work of art I thought had pulled a Houdini on me and vanished. So it’s with peacock pride I was able to hang my velvet painting of a matador next to my velvet painting of a mountain range. If fashion truly is cyclical, the next decade is looking pretty good for yours truly.

More cyclical findings were to be had when I uncovered a unicycle I purchased for the meagre sum of $20, which I had to borrow from my landlord. Having mastered the ability to walk and chew gum only a year ago, why I splurged on the cycle with one wheel probably comes from the same part of my thinker that justified buying a 1974 tent trailer that was never, ever used, not even once while in my possession — a point I’m often reminded of before using the credit card.

Last summer I thought I had hit the Gas City Goldmine when I stumbled across a Hammond organ that was looking for a new home. One phone call later and with the help of a friend, that electric music maker was parked next to a fishing net I found on Hwy 41. It was soon noted that my odds of creating a masterpiece were equivalent to my odds of giving birth because even if you own something, it doesn’t necessarily warrant you as an expert.

People keep family albums and for others it might be the family heirloom and then for some of us, we can find fond memories in the little things, like a bull fighter painted on velvet for example. And should there ever be a need for a guy to ride a unicycle up and down the keys of a ’70s church organ while balancing a fish net on their head, I have all the makings in my garage.

Last summer I thought I had hit the Gas City Goldmine ...