Stuff

I retired this past January. Recently,  I realized that I needed to retire, not because I as tired of my job, or, fortunately, not because of illness, but because I needed time to manage all the STUFF --I haven't even mentioned my wife-- I have accumulated over my

68 years of living.

All of us accumulate stuff as we go down the road. Books are a big one. I think we have enough books in our house to make the foundation sink a couple of inches each year. I have imagined our second floor collapsing and crushing the contents of our first floor--might solve a few problems wouldn't it? It's hard to get rid of books. You just might need that one in the future even though you have not looked or thought about it for 10 years. It's just too difficult to throw them away.

There is something sacred about books, and anyone who has a modicum of respect for academics will understand that designation. Even if you are desperate for extra space you can never burn a book as that conjures up images of the Nazis, and no one with the tiniest bit of understanding of history would welcome that label. So you might try to sell them, and lug them to the library for donation, or place them in your garage--bad idea--or loan them to other people. "Would you like to borrow my copy of Wood Carving for the Amateur?" Thank God for ebooks.

But remember, books are just one type of stuff. There are many others. There's furniture (a difficult one to get rid of because styles change), and tools, and souvenirs, and ridiculous pictures you took on trips, and 50 pairs of shoes (wife's problem), and your old underwear (lets stop there).

Because we moved to the "country" about 6 years ago, I had to buy a truck. You can't live in the country and not own a truck. I had never owned a truck, and I discovered that when you drive one, you feel like you are accomplishing something. What, I don't know, but you just get that feeling, and it's good. Besides that satisfying feeling I got, I realized that a truck is part of the passage of life: you grow up, get married, move into a bigger house, possibly move again, and accumulate stuff. At that stage, it's time for a truck so you can move your stuff around. Forget moving it around in your house, you can now move your stuff around the country. That's living.


Over the past few years, as I have accepted my aging, and become aware of my accumulated stuff. I have begun to imagine that the pattern of life may be the gradual accumulation of stuff. At some point, as one gets old enough, one just doesn't have the strength to even get rid of all your stuff, and you just have to wait until you die; then someone else has to get rid of your stuff. It's going to be easier for them though, because they don't have all those "attachments" that you have. Oh, they will have some attachments maybe to your old high  school yearbook--if they can recognize you in any of the pictures--but as they climb over
your mountain of stuff, those "attachments" will rapidly evaporate. Anyway, the longest that "attachment" will last is one more generation anyway, then they will certainly get rid of your stuff. They might even burn some of it.

One rule to help me get rid of stuff has been if I haven't used something for at least 5 years, I should seriously consider getting rid of it. Oh, maybe that will be 10 years as it's a little easier on one's psyche.

There was someone who didn't have to consider any of these issues, and that was the Pharaohs of Egypt. When they died and were buried,  all there stuff was buried with them (I think sometimes including wives and pets). Some might think that was a mark of privilege, but I don't think so. I think the problem with that "privilege" is that they still didn't get rid of their STUFF!