I Save My Lint
Category: Misc.

While most of you think of me as the suave… nay debonair… gent who wields his prodigious charm with an ease that is rivaled only by Martha Stewart's ability to shower the unwashed masses with her condescending arrogance, I am here to tell you that it’s just not true. When all is said and done, I’m just an odd dude with a touch of OCD.

It being “Confession Thursday” I thought that I would share one of my more, ummm, endearing traits.

I save my lint.

Yes, you heard me correctly. In my laundry room sits a pile of lint that could choke an elephant. I’ll let you ponder that for a moment as I’m sure you will have some questions to ask. [Insert pause here]

Q: What type of lint?
A: It’s the good stuff, 100% dryer lint. I don’t bother with the belly-button variety; it’s too hard to collect in quantity and it lacks the sanitary properties found in your good-ole’ dryer lint. I’ve also found that it weirds people out if you stick your finger into your bully button and then save the fruits of your digging labor.

Q: Uh, why?
A: It’s nothing too odd, really. It’s not like I think that my soul is transferred to my clothes and that with each little piece of lost lint so too disappears a part of the fabric of my life. Even if I did think that, I would be well protected by the aluminum foil that lines my laundry room.

It really started by accident and continued from there. When we moved into our home we were without a proper supply of trashcans. So, I just started tossing the lint on the shelf. I figured it’s clean so what does it matter. One thing led to another and a pile started to form.

Q: Yeah, but why do you keep it?
A: After a little while I began to be amazed at how lint piles were in many ways like snowflakes, no two are alike. The lint began to tell the tale of my life. Mixed in with your more typical lint you will find a batch with a shredded movie ticket. Grains of sand are engulfed by the big fluffy lint of beach towels. Lint tells the story of one’s life and I wanted those notes available for when I finally sit down and write my memoirs.

Q: Do you have any special collecting methods?
A: Yes, I like to change it up. I do my best to not stick to a collection routine. Sometimes I resist the siren-like calling to scrape the lint. I know that if I can hold out for three to four loads I will be rewarded with “one pull lint.” OPL is really the best thing in the world. Not only do you get the satisfaction of getting ALL the lint on the tray you also get something of a mini-archeological dig.

Q: What if you can’t wait?
A: If I get too impatient, I like to use the gum technique. Lint, like gum, seems to be very partial to its own kind. As such, I like to start with a little piece of lint (usually from the corner of the tray) and gently, in a clockwise motion, circle the remaining tray.

Q: Do you have grand plans for your lint?
A: Eventually I plan to place all my lint between two thin layers of glass and hang it as art.

Q: You’re joking, right?
A: God I wish I were!

So there you have it, my confession. What about you – do you have little quirks that heretofore you have been embarrassed to share with the world? Let it out! Trust me; you’ll feel better.

(If you thought that this post was interesting, why not read another? Perhaps a random link? Or you could just read about me.)