I have been slowly turning my house from something out of Good Housekeeping to something out of Field and Stream.

Now alone, I have been trying to make it a little more masculine. I thought I was almost there with one room to go. The bad news is that it was the kitchen.

I am a decent cook and recognize most objects and their purpose. I have culled out several items that I could find no use for in my future. They will be passed on to someone that may know what they are for.

It has been time consuming but I have made decent progress; also, found a lot of shelf space hidden under useless things that Julia Childs could not identify. I was in overdrive until I opened a seldom used cabinet under a counter that I had avoided.

Hello Tupperware. It came flowing out like Niagara Falls all over the floor. Looking at that plastic mess my first thought was maybe my wife was planning a Tupperware Museum.

If you are old enough to remember the radio show of “Fibber McGee and Molly”, you’ll recall him opening the hall closet and being buried in the avalanche. Fibber would say, “One of these days I’ve got to clean that out”.

I am sure Tupperware needs little explanation as I’ll bet all homes have, or have had, Tupperware. It is an American tradition started in 1942 in Massachusetts. But now worldwide. For grins, I Googled it and got 50,900,000 hits.

A fellow by the name of Earl Tupper introduced his first bell-shaped container there and it went public in 1946. It is so popular now that the name is used generically for any food storage container with a snap top lid. Earl even patented the “burping seal” that it makes when properly closed.

How many of you ladies can claim credit to have attending, or hosting, a Tupperware Party? These were once a sensation and probably has something to do with this plastic mountain that I had in the middle of my kitchen floor.

The pain of what wives spent at these parties was somewhat offset by the night out for husbands at the corner bar or a poker game at one of the other husband’s dens. I don’t believe there is any truth to the rumor that Texas Hold’em started as a result of a Tupperware party down the street however.

Anyway, back to my dilemma. Here I am with this floor full of Tupperware. I did the only thing I could do. I started separating lids and containers. That was easy. Now we need to match lids with containers. I had a better chance of splitting the atom with a steak knife.

I have to admit that it is still a work in progress. I had to take a break to write this column before my deadline. The question remains as I sit at the key board. How many matches will I get before frustrations sets in and the recycle bin starts filling up? I assume Tupperware is recyclable. It is plastic and I hope it can be reused. Can you imagine what the landfills would be like if everyone trashed unused Tupperware at once?

Maybe we could melt them all down and repave our roads and streets. The stuff is indestructible. Can you imagine America without any potholes for the foreseeable future? Excuse me as I have to go clean up the kitchen.

God bless and have a great day.

A columnist and sage whose work appears in newspapers near and far, William Rowell can be reached at blrowell@embarqmail.com

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