We’re sorting through our stuff as we pack for our move to Colorado. As you can see, the house is completely trashed as we go through this process. As I’m up to my elbows in this mess, it occurs to me that I’m a complete hypocrite. I often admonish my students with the “keep it simple” and “less is more” mantras. Yet, I’m obviously not practicing what I’m preaching. While I’ve sold, gifted, or tossed out countless boxes of stuff in the past few weeks, I’m still going schlep a shameful volume of questionable belongings to our new home.
I rationalize to myself that the original French Speckletone paper promo brochure designed by Charles Spencer Anderson in the mid-80’s is a piece of history worth saving. But can I also make the same case for an N64 game cartridge that reminds me of having my butt spanked by at Mario Kart gradeschool-age sons many years ago? Or a pair of acid-washed jeans that I convince myself will someday return to style — and that I’ll someday be able to fit into them again?
I’m self-aware enough to recognize that I possess a pack rat gene of impressive proportions, but self-delusional enough to convince myself that I’ll have another chance to throw stuff out as we unpack. I’m going to wallow in that fantasy for another couple weeks before facing the harsh reality that I’m likely to place that broken elbow lamp on a shelf in my new Colorado garage with the same intent to repair it that I’ve had every year for the past 5 years since it broke. I have met the enemy, and he is me.
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