How long do you keep stuff?

One rule of thumb that I am working toward proving is that, no matter how much storage space you might have, your stuff will expand to fill it.

The scary part is that we now have a big barn and a smaller outbuilding.

 

Yer fucked, keed.

 

The pandemic has prompted many of us to re-examine our stash of "stuff" and pare it down, since we have the time.

I have crates and crates of newspapers/clips/journalism paraphernalia that I have tried to whittle down several times, but it just turns into a trip down memory lane as I re-read everything and laugh at the memories. Someday my wife and/or kids will throw a match on all of it.

One thing that might retain its value is my three crates of LP records (plus a smaller box of 45s). You can't beat the cover art, liner notes and photos of old rock records. Take "Genesis Live" from the early 1970s. Not only does it have great songs on the vinyl record, the Peter Gabriel short story on the back of the sleeve is so strange it was almost made into a movie.

 

Pete's headgear and the lighting is a little strange, too. And Phil looks like he's in a different world behind the kit.

 

In the early '80s I made the fortunate decision to NOT save memorabilia. If I had the "collector gene" I certainly had access. Working at a West Coast PM paper, I was always among the last guys in media rooms and I could survey what was sitting around and grab anything I wanted. I mean, do I want the South Alabama postseason media guide with a caricature of Ronnie Arrow on the cover, knowing I saw them beat Alabama and Arrow ran on top of the media table leaving a footprint on my notebook? But I didn't. I have one box of stuff from the Dodgers' 1981 World Series run. It has the media guide, scorebook, WS credential and a few other things. I have a box of various pins a got over the years. I have a few T-shirts. That is about all.

 

I have nothing but lanyards on a doorknob. I finally pitched the media guides about five years ago, although I kept older ones that tended to have marvelous original cover art.

 

In my basement, have a few sets of baseball cards, a few hundred books, which I recently tossed about 20 or so that got moldy. I have some old newspapers that have clips I wrote or designed. I went through an Antiques Roadshow phase where I went to a few garage sales and bought some crappy little paintings. One of them that I had appraised is worth about $200 or so, but I just haven’t felt like doing anything with them. So they sit in my basement.

My Mom has developed a hoarding problem. Her big thing is buying clothes for herself, and she can’t bear to throw anything away. I think it stems from her growing up poor.

My wife and I have spent multiple days trying to help her clean up her piles and toss some stuff. At first, she was having a huge emotional problem with it. For instance, it took us 15 minutes just to convince her to toss out an old and dirty telephone cord that she’s had stashed somewhere for 30 years. “But what if the kitchen phone cord breaks?” “Geez Mom, you and Dad have cell phones and you can always buy another cord.” She’s gotten a little better about the hoarding, but she hasn’t been feeling well physically, and as much as my wife sometimes nags and says it’ll be emotionally difficult cleaning out their house when my parents pass, I’m at the stage where I’d rather enjoy the time with my Mom instead of dealing with emotional drama over her piles of junk.

 

I took all of my media passes, turned them into a collage and had it framed.

I have a few framed editions around here. I'm worse at birthday cards. If they just signed their name inside, ok that can go recycle. But if it's got a note or a funny story or a memory, I keep it. I find it hard to part with the memories.

I remember my grandparents' house when we cleared it out in Thanksgiving of 1997. They built the house in 1952. In the basement were asbestos-ridden ceiling tiles from the house they tore down in 1951. We told my grandfather we had chucked those and he got mad because he could use those one day!

This is the stock I come from. I know now: when it comes time for me to do that to my parents' house, I'm not telling them what I throw out.

 

This is where we're at right now. No kids. If it has sentimental value, I'm allowed two plastic tubs. Otherwise, it needs to work or be of use, or out it goes.

I need to do a thorough downsizing of things that have no intrinsic value, because my 50 years of baseball box scores from Strat, APBA and Cadaco aren't going to mean diddly to the person who winds up having to clean up after I'm gone, unless they're impressed with my handwriting.

Unfortunately, I've got a wife with 30 years of school supplies, books for multiple grade levels and boxes and boxes of manipulatives. I keep telling her to start an eBay account and sell what she doesn't want and donate the rest to somebody fresh out of college.

 

I grew up poor as shit. Not dirt floor inside the house poor*, but pretty damn poor. That’s probably part of the reason why I hang on to stuff too long.

* I worked with a guy who grew up that way. It was the ‘80s, and I couldn’t believe that happened anywhere but Appalachia.

My dad’s parents’ house didn’t have running water until the late ‘60s/early ‘70s. Before that, you had to draw water from the cistern. The first time he took my mom to meet the family, she asked where the toilet was. Outside, she was told. I’m amazed she didn’t run right then.

 

Does one CD a day count? Asking for a friend.