It’s here, folks. 2017!

Deep in my heart of hearts, I know this to be true: in order to properly refresh ourselves so that we can welcome in the New Year, we must cast out things which are dragging us down. Things that we no longer use, need or love. By this I do not mean spouses, children or relatives (unless they have hung on too long and now have a decided fishy smell), but rather I speak of items whose purposefulness has passed. Stuff that lingers on and on, cluttering up our contentment. For who among us would argue against creating a 2017 that is fresh, orderly and sparkly new?

Our purge begins in the kitchen. You know that place — the exemplar of storage for superfluous junk, the haven for no longer adored paraphernalia. Let’s face it. Our drawers and cupboards are burgeoning to the brink of implosion with impedimenta. Take, for example, those pesky plastic storage containers. I ask you, does our true happiness intrinsically rest upon keeping them all? Even the ones with no matching tops or bottoms? I don’t think so. Besides, I suspect they’ve been designed to self destruct, forcing us to buy more. Makes me want to sell Mrs. Ziplock a pair of panties whose waist band dissolves after three months!

Then there are the cake pans and cookie sheets whose original coating disappeared about the time that women got the vote. We can no longer identify what materials they’re made of. And the threadbare pot holders that are little more than stained fragments of fabric with tufts of stuffing peering out. Would it break the bank to replace them? Be assured, you will still be allowed entrance into heaven if you toss them. St. Peter will understand.

He will also not be angry if you release your fondue pot to the recycling man. As did you, Peter found the monotonous flavor of the cheese and bread cubes boring. Note: do NOT keep the forks. Like you, they have passed their glory days.

Unquestionably, the junk drawer needs an intervention. This should be followed by a quick, unapologetic death. It’s only junk, folks. That’s why it’s called the junk drawer.

As for spices with an expiration date in the vicinity of 1983, they should be banished. They no longer add zing to your cooking. Besides, they have turned to dust and are now completely unrecognizable.

It is no longer necessary for you to amass aluminum foil pie pans. Honest, you do not need two dozen of them. This also goes for both empty cottage cheese containers and olive jars. Send them happily on their way as you know very well another one will soon appear. In fact, we may well find at least one of these items in our coffins some day. They just won’t let go, clinging to us like used plastic wrap.

If you have a collection of twisties that is beyond your control, take action. I’m not sure about this, but check in the yellow pages for twisty exterminators. If necessary go out of town to find one. Bixby, Hayfield, Pratt? There’s got to be one somewhere.  If your search is unsuccessful, start rolling up a twisty ball much akin to your rubber band ball and your string ball. They’re kitschy in an indescribable way. Heck, they may even attract paying tourists.

Moving from the kitchen to the bedroom we come face to face with our pasts. This is much like smashing into a concrete fashion barricade. Dickies, garter belts, slips and girdles are no longer in vogue even if you ladies yearn for them to be so. It’s just not going to happen. Neither are cuff links, Banlon dress shirts, leisure suits, wide white belts or pocket protectors, guys. Say a prayer of gratitude for the long years in which they served you and then send them on their way with your blessings to the nearest donation bags. Close behind them should follow your bell bottom trousers, dashikis, Teddy Bear coats and cinch belts. Let’s face it, even with their blessed ability to stretch, belts and bras that are currently short in circumnavigating you by five inches should also be pitched. In all likelihood, you will not be seeing those days again.

Above all, do not be afraid to cast out your unloved, detested, loathsome wire hangers. Joan Crawford would applaud your efforts. If there ever was a true blight on mankind, these hangers are it. By rights, they should have gone out with the Studebaker.

I would further suggest that any perfume or deodorant that can now be used as Flit may have seen better days. They are no longer your helpmates because reeking does you no good. The bugs may stay away, but your friends will also. Why not send them to Mrs. Ziplock! (She’s the lady over there whose panties just dropped to her ankles. Serves her right.)

Mismatched socks are pleading for release. What twin can bear to live without its mate, so end their despair. Come on. You can do it. Simply drop them one-by-mismatched-one into a garbage bag, pull the string for a tight seal and plop them into your garbage can. Nothing will happen. The earth will not stop rotating, the sky will not fall in and Donald Trump will still be our president-elect.

Eyeglasses through which you cannot see or that have pointy rhinestone encrusted bows may find a new home with someone else. This also goes for hearing aids. Third World countries welcome them. I would not recommend, however, that you pass on your false teeth. This form of charitable giving is highly questionable. Actually, it’s just plain dumb.

If you are holding in a death grip your old jigsaw puzzles (puzzles of which you highly suspect — or are absolutely certain — are missing a piece), it is time to be done with them. They serve only to consternate you in the worst of ways, starting your new year off with a burdensome bummer.

As for the living room, correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe antimacassars are no longer in vogue. I’m pretty sure they’ve gone the way of zippered plastic sofa protectors. I never cared for either one, especially the polyurethane covers which on hot July days before air conditioning were particularly miserable to sit on. As for the armchair doilies, didn’t the dust just go through the holes? And didn’t that create a gray polka dot pattern on the chair? The very one you incessantly crocheted your head off to protect?

If you have any magazines and newspapers that clearly resemble papyrus, their time has come. This goes double for dated Readers Digests, the Encyclopedia Britannica and those National Geographics. The Austin recycling center will welcome these slick pages like long lost kin. This, as well, goes for your twenty-eight year old carpet. Just because it’s guaranteed for a lifetime, you know, doesn’t really mean you have to test it. You were blessed with the ability to rid yourself of such undesirable undesirables. Do not be fearful for I am by your side. And who knows, your allergies may disappear!

And, by the way, in case you are not aware, three-cent post cards and aerograms are no longer welcomed by the postal authorities. Such items really did go out with the Studebaker!

And finally, if you are one of those people who have kept your surgically removed gall stones in a mayonnaise jar on the fireplace mantel, please get rid of them now. RIGHT NOW! Once upon a time they were your helpmates, but no longer. Furthermore, they will not impress your friends (if you still have any). The desire of all used gall stones is to be laid to rest. Go up to the attic and find a daguerreotype of Grandpa to put in its place. It makes good target practice for your new twisty balls.