In 2008, my wife and I got married and I moved out of my studio apartment and into a little one bedroom up-and-down duplex. I have no memory of packing up that apartment because there wasn’t anything to pack. I fit all of my clothes, box-sets of TV on DVD, and whatever rando belongings I had into my car and borrowed a friend’s truck to get my furniture to the new place. That was it.
When my wife and I moved again a year and a half later into our first house, we rented a little 15 foot U-Haul box truck. And then, somehow, three years later when we packed up that house to move again, we had to get the biggest truck they had, and there were moments I wondered if we’d get it all in. Sure, in those three years we adopted our oldest son and lived a whole lot of life, but I was still flabbergasted. Our stuff had multiplied faster than rabbits hopped up on Cialis! Left unchecked I was sure our stuff would eventually give the Great Pacific Garbage Patch (aka Trash Island) a run for it’s money.
While I’m happy to report that we have averted that disaster, I am once again coming face to face with my stuff as we prepare to move again. I’m in my closet re-discovering clothes I haven’t worn since Obama’s first term, finding old beer-making supplies (tried it once, was NOT successful), and generally finding myself thinking “huh, definitely forgot that I had that” on the regular. I have three drawers full of DVDs in an old dresser. Do I have a working DVD player at the ready? Reader, I do not. And that’s just me! My kids have toys on toys on toys to sift through (read: throw away) and my wife is fighting her own battles against compulsive shoe hoarding.* It’s unavoidable: every drawer, cupboard, and closet opens up to reveal more stuff.
Look, this is not my self-righteous screed to tell you all that I’ve embraced minimalism so that I can “declutter my life and declutter my mind.” I watched the most recent iteration of the Minimalists documentary on Netflix and my eyes rolled so far back into my head that they reappeared from the bottom and I’ve been seeing everything upside down ever since. I don’t have a lot of stuff because I’m searching for meaning, I have a lot of stuff because I have a LIFE. Trying new hobbies creates stuff. Kids having birthdays creates stuff. Even getting a new pair of pants creates stuff! Could I create a system where every time we get a new toy/shirt/book/whatever we have to get rid of an old one? Absolutely! Does the very idea of doing that make me feel like I’d quickly become a humorless jerk who my kids hated and my wife wanted to walk out on? You bet it does.
It is a problem when the accumulation of stuff becomes a crutch for folks who are struggling to find meaning in their lives. We’ve all seen hoarders. One day grandma was just collecting beanie babies and suddenly there’s a flattened cat under a box of newspaper clippings. I’d like it on the record that I think that’s BAD. But in a much more normal way, having stuff is just a marker of a life lived. Of trying new things and kids growing up. Of buying a new pair of jeans because the old pair is worn out but keeping the old pair anyway because, you know, you need some mowing clothes. Stuff is like the rings of a tree. When I find a toy that we moved from our first house when my son was 2 it gives me a moment to remember all the life we’ve lived between then and now. Of big wins and little losses and everything in between.
And it also gives me a moment to feel emotionally superior when I toss it into the donate box. Maybe SOME people need stuff to feel good about themselves, but not ME. I’m evolved—like those minimalist bros.
*My wife would like you to know she is WINNING the battle
On to the links!
Full disclosure, the first iteration of this newsletter was not about all my stuff, it was about the ATTEMPTED FREAKING COUP that happened last week. Then I realized:
Nobody wants to hear my opinions about crazy Qanon people at the Capitol (note: that’s the whole opinion. They’re crazy), and
I was not funny enough to make it funny
Luckily there ARE people with good opinions about the almost-coup and people who are funny enough to make it funny! This article in particular had me rolling. This woman needs to work for McSweeney’s. Seriously, if you haven’t already burned out on the whole “violent mob tries to overthrow government” story, all of those links are worth a read.
This section should really be renamed “food dad” but making these graphics takes time and I’m working on a deadline, man! If you are a midwesterner like myself, you know all about the official desert of church potluck, the Scotcheroo. That article right there is both informative and will make you salivate. Good times.
This article in Esquire about Costco bourbon hits in all the right ways. It’s short but so well written and it packs an emotional punch. Got me thinking about fathers and sons and now I’m crying so lets move on.
The console wars are currently on between the PS5 and the Xbox Series X, but there are a few dark horses in waiting in the wings worth thinking about. First up is the KFConsole which is perfect for gamers who also love piping hot chicken. And after you finish up that chicken, you should consider cooling off with the BL6, a console/koozie hybrid you didn’t know you need (because you don’t.) Yes, those are both real things and now you know about them thanks to me. You’re welcome.
Last but FOR SURE not least is this article about a Soviet style Cookie Monster mural prank. Yes, that’s a real sentence and yes, the story is as wonderful as you’d expect it to be. If nothing else, click the link to see the mural. I’d wallpaper my office with prints of that thing if they made them.
Once again we’ve come to the end and once again I will shamelessly ask you to pass this newsletter along to anyone you think might enjoy it. The greatest housewarming gift you could give me is a new subscriber—unless you’re willing to give me the password to your HBO Max.
Until next time…