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Home » Callander Girl

It’s my shit…

3 November 2009 No Comment


When I moved from Toronto to Vancouver, I left more than a few things at my parents place. Over the next 2 and a half years, whenever I have gone home for a visit I’ve lightened my load and brought more of my belongings here to Vancouver.

Five months after transporting my stuff from my apartment in the T dot to my parents place in Whitby, they decided to move out of that house to one in Oshawa. I was a bit nervous when the second move happened, afraid that some of my stuff would end up in the trash. My parents knew the importance of my stuff and relieved my nerves when they told me that nothing would be sent to the dump or Goodwill unless I said it could be.

But on my last visit I noticed a few things missing….

Now the things missing you ask?
The shirt I bought at the last show Nirvana ever played in Toronto, a Babes In Toyland t-shirt that my friend bought at Lollapolooza 1993, a really cool Distillers shirt to name a few…

Perhaps I can see how a bunch of my old concert t-shirts can look like a pile of worn out, smelly, hole-ridden pieces of “OK you need to let these things go” rags to some. They meant more to me than that as I still valued the memories I had associated with them.

Now when my Dad first came over to Canada from Scotland in the early 70’s he also left a few things behind at his folks place. He like me was unable to bring all his valuables and was given reassurance that his stuff was safe. To this day my Dad has never fully recovered from the loss of a good portion of his autograph collection. A little box that contained so much. Little Richard, The Animals, Carl Perkins, Tommy Tucker and Elkie Brooks autographs to name a few. And a lot of these autographs were on concert programs which today would be worth a lot of money. A little box that meant so much to someone and not to another (my Grandmother).


I know it sounds like I hold on to the past too much but I don’t think I do. And I’m not a Hoarder (check out the show on A&E called Hoarders…serious hideous messes). I’m just saying don’t throw anyone’s “shit” out. And apologize profusely if it was thrown out unintentionally ;).

I would now like to take the time to thank my parents for putting up with my shit (materially and metaphorically) as I do appreciate you helping me with my shit (materially and metaphorically).

And for vanmusic readers please write comments and tell me your stories of your lost, stolen and thrown out “shit”.

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