A Home at the End of the World

Reject the basic assumptions of civilization, especially the importance of material possessions - Fight Club (1999)

Tower Records didn’t create the concept of the “Desert Island Discs,” but they surely did a lot to popularize it.  I sent in a list once, but it never got published.  But it is always fascinating to explore how people prioritize their prize possessions.  As a connoisseur of clutter, I would have a problem trying to fit my precious cargo into a suitcase.  My current crap barely fits into my ample closet.  But it gives birth to the argument about whether your quality of life increases in proportion to the amount of stuff that you accumulate.  Or whether this excess baggage becomes just another dead weight dragging you down.  I’ll spare you a misguided rant against consumer culture.  But there is evidence that your favorite things tend to increase your stress level.  One deduction is that the more stuff you have, the more time, money and attention it costs you to maintain it.  Not to mention, the anxiety of the possibility of it’s eventual destruction.  I recall that I used to keep brand new clothes in hermetically sealed state until I was ready to use them.  That might be taking things to an extreme.  The point I am trying to make is that the minute we acquire a new toy, we start to worry about wear and tear.  I know that not everybody has such a skewed world view.  My neighbor at work usually leaves her locker door wide open.  When I try to reason with her laid-back attitude, she replies that there is nothing worth stealing in there.  Maybe I have trust issues, but I check the locks several times before walking away.  Blame it on my OCD, but the paranoia becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.  If you expect the worst, you won’t be disappointed!  But I have begun to examine my attachment to inanimate objects.  It has been a life-long affair, but now I think that the romance has mellowed.  I will always love the rush you experience when you leave the store with your loot.  But the shit here is knee-high already.  I think the time has come to downsize my fabric footprint.  And I am not just saying this because I live in a small studio.  Letting go of my clutter has been a struggle, but I feel like I am turning a corner.  I often watch films where the protagonist packs his bags and leaves town and I sigh with envy.  I can’t imagine fitting the sum total of your physical self in a little box.  My sweater collection alone would take up two milk crates.  Baby steps, people.  Perhaps, this is the reason I find the idea of escaping to the countryside so appealing.  Alone in the house with a bitch and a mouse, I could be very happy living la vida rustic.  The Internet has made it possible to maintain contact with almost everybody at the most remote location.  Now if only I could wrap it up, I could move to the mountainside with my massive wardrobe and my laptop computer.  Far away from the prying eyes of the world!  Thankfully, I will not have to put my desert island disc list into motion, now that we have gone digital.