The move to Tybee Island is officially underway. The big yellow truck is backed up in our driveway. One of the storage sheds has been emptied. Mr. Mary Kay and a strapping youth, plus Mark, our son-in-law are out there in the cold, wrestling with the Baptist Yard Sale Sleeper Sofa, and the vast quantity of wicker I have amassed over the past couple years, not to mention assorted geegaws, and whimdoodles. The big-ass wide-screen TV which Mr. MK purchased recently is waiting to be loaded. This television is so large that I think we could just point it at the street and sell tickets to front yard screenings this summer. It is so large that the dudes on the space shuttle could probably watch Sports Center on it from outer space. Mr. MK is all about electronics. While I have been dithering over doorknobs and salivating over sinks, he has been making furtive visits to Best Buy and Circuit City. One night he came home with a shopping bag full of stuff. I eyed it suspiciously, seeing the all-too-familiar Best Buy logo. “What’s that?” she said. “Clock radios,” he said smugly. “A whole bag-ful?” “I can’t stand a beach house without a clock radio, so I bought one for every room,” he said. “People want to know what time it is.” I tried to tell him that many modern-thinking types just check their cell phone, but he was having none of it. While I was browsing around in the basement (home to the Breeze Inn furniture inventory) I came across a large cardboard box. “What’s this?” He got a blissful look on his face. “Stereo system. Inside and out speakers.” This box is the size of a suitcase. “Couldn’t we just get a docking station for an iPod?” I asked innocently. He looked at me as though I’d just suggested he should attend high mass at the Cathedral–wearing women’s panties on his head. Tonight, as we were loading his vehicle for the move, I spotted another suspicious box in the back of his SUV. I’m afraid to look, but I think it might be a HDTV blue-ray DVR. And did I mention his fixation with batteries and light bulbs? Oh well. He better not say a word about that wicker dressing table that materialized in the basement over the Christmas holidays. Or the three different kinds of salad plates I’ve purchased for the beach house. Not to mention all the wine glasses.