Pearson: This moving experience leaves 'clutter' behind

Published August 5, 2006 at midnight

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The Rocky Mountain News begins moving to its new home at 101 W. Colfax Ave. this weekend, and if you think moving from one house to another is bad, try moving an entire building, or even just a newsroom.

The other day I swear I saw someone crawl from under a desk with a faded folder and ask: "Do we still need this file on the Lindbergh baby kidnapping?" You never know when there might be a new development in the case.

Our marching orders are to downsize, purge, and exorcise clutter. For me that's meant the forced discarding of the many promotional toys I've gathered over the past 18 years. I didn't mind throwing away the bright green Shrek horns or the countless mouse pads and stress balls people have sent.

I even pitched the size-200 panties the good folks promoting Big Momma's House 2 were nice enough to send. The next day they were on a hook near my office. This move has turned us into a cabal of dumpster divers.

For years, people have accused me of having the messiest office in the newsroom, and I defended myself with the adage: "It's not messy, it's lived in."

If an office tells you a lot about its occupant, I probably need therapy. That doesn't mean I didn't bridle a bit when someone would walk by and say "How do you work in all this clutter?" I'd think: "Who are you, Howard Hughes? This isn't a surgical suite!"

Besides, those same "neat freaks" were the first ones to send their kids to my office when they needed a beach ball or barrel of monkeys to keep the little whelps from peeing on the computers. I became a sort of dysfunctional version of Toys R Us.

I also have lots of books. Some are useful references volumes, others are more abstract. When people ask why, I say you never know when you'll need to counsel a troubled intern and The Confessions by Augustine or Confucius' The Analects will come in handy.

People's offices tend to be extensions of their homes: mini comfort zones. There are pictures of their families and pets and framed prints on the wall that bespeak their love of sports or square dancing. The work spaces in a newsroom are no different, except that journalists have a hard time throwing things away. I recently discarded three coffee cups sent by companies that no longer exist, and mark my words, I will rue the day I threw out that National Geographic from 1989. I never did get around to reading that article on meteors.

I made a partial inventory of some of the stuff I downsized. Does anyone really need a felt Carmen Miranda hat, a box of finger puppets or an inflatable alien? What about a statue of Gollum, several beach balls and so many key chains that if I melted them all down, I'd have enough metal for a car?

Some people send you products hoping you'll write about them, like the box of rat poison that sat on my desk for three months. I've gotten samples of every type of super glue known to man. And if the people at Nicorette really wanted to help, they'd send me some gum, not a paperweight with plastic pieces of fruit floating around inside. What is that supposed to represent, a withdrawal hallucination?

In hindsight, I'm lucky: I only had to pack up five boxes. The books editor had to pack up several thousand books, and our poor librarian already has reserved a room at Betty Ford. Watching him supervise the moving of an entire archive - Do we really need these color slides from Caddyshack 2? - I half expected him to snap and start speaking his own made-up language. Does barking count?

The only toys I'm taking to the new location are my Bobble Head Dolls. Don't ask why, but when I'm having a rough day, giving that Maytag repairman Bobble Head a good shake always cheers me up. And the bloody Col. Sanders holding a chicken (a gift from PETA), I guess that just keeps me grounded in this man-eat-chicken world.

At least I don't have to worry about wiping down any surfaces or vacuuming. The city is planning to demolish the current building in December to make way for the new justice center. And if they find the errant cookbook or RuPaul CD in the rubble? Consider it my gift of cultural enlightenment to the incarcerated masses.

Mike Pearson is features editor. pearsonm@RockyMountainNews.com or 303-892-2592.

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