The Old Coot says we’re buried in stuff.
By Merlin Lessler
Stuff! Way too much stuff! How did we get here? Our homes
are overflowing. Our attics are filled to the rafters. Our cars won’t fit in
the garage. We buy Amish sheds and rent space in storage yards, yet we’re still
buried in stuff. Our affliction is the focus of cable TV shows. Even Oprah
covers it! A whole new branch of psychology has sprung up to deal with it.
Old coots like me have an excuse. We’ve had a lot of time
to accumulate our treasures. And, we’re cheap! We don’t throw anything out. “We
might need it someday!” We grew up in a simpler world, the so called “good old
days.” We remember all the good things, yet somehow forget the bad (like the
summer semester in college when I was sent home because I wore shorts to
school). But, one thing for sure, is that we lived with scarcity back then. We
were the last generation before the “too much stuff” generation emerged. We had
one winter coat, one pair of Levis, one of most things. We didn’t spend time
mulling over what to wear. A family’s weekly garbage accumulation rarely filled
a single metal can. Throw-away packaging was limited, if non-existent. Recycling
was the norm; soda and milk came in reusable glass containers. Other products
that came in glass were recycled too, baby jars into nuts, screw & bolt
holders, pickle jars for collections (sea shells, marbles and many other items),
newspapers for packing and window washing, cardboard boxes for storage bins,
sleds and play houses. Today, it’s a razor thin line between an average
residence and a hoarder’s nightmare.
It’s not just physical stuff we’re buried in. It’s TV,
radio, other media, plus a hurricane storm of data, and information from social
media, cable TV and the like. Hundreds of channels on TV – News all day –
Weather forecasts that never stop, often with a prediction of doom that forces
us to stay tuned. A simple cup of coffee isn’t simple anymore; we now have more
options than I can count - regular, decaf, ½ caf, dark, light, flavored and a
litany of lattes and mochas with another litany of “stuff” that can be squirted
or spooned in. We were lucky. We had one phone per household, often on a line
shared with several other customers. There was only one TV station in town when
the idiot box, as it was called, arrived at my house. Two other stations came a
few years later, but you had to turn the rabbit ears to go from one to the
other. And even then, you had to clip hunks of tinfoil to the ends of the “ears”
to remove the “snow” from the picture. The evening news took 15 minutes. Now
the weather forecast takes that long. The stations signed off at midnight,
playing a scratchy Star-Spangled Banner record and turning the screen into a
test pattern.
Us old coots have an out. The "been around a long
time" thing. But, most people with too much stuff are young (by old coot
standards). Under 40. Even little kids are buried in stuff. I don’t know if our
society can solve the problem, but it has created a lucrative business
opportunity: the people who build sheds or set up rental storage facilities are
rolling in the bucks, psychologists are getting their share of the pie,
personal organizers (consultants) are starting to make the scene. But old coots
are the best consultants. We know what to keep and what to throw away. If you
need help, drop me a note at oldcootclutterremovaladvice.com. I’ll come over as
soon as I can move aside the pile of stuff blocking my car in the garage.
Comments? Send to – mlessler7@gmail.com
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