Shopping by Will Stanton

I do not shop much.  At my age, I do not need or crave many things.  I buy groceries and a few things to keep my home going.  Being a guy, I do not shop just for something to do or to be entertained.  I recall overhearing a young woman, loaded down with Neiman Marcus shopping bags, saying over a cellphone to a friend, “I could just shop until I drop!”  That is a concept that just does not make sense to me and, frankly, I find rather repelling.

In addition to my not being interested in clothing fashions, I have to watch my pennies and not overspend.  I wear the same old clothes over and over again, just keeping them clean and relatively presentable.  Even though I can't get into my fine suits anymore, I don't bother to replace them.  I kept a favorite recliner-chair until it was about ready to collapse.  Apparently, this, too, is a “guy thing;”  I've seen cartoons about old farts not giving up their favorite, broken-down recliners until someone else intercedes.  Fortunately, that happened with me, too; and I'm very appreciative.  I'll keep this one until doomsday.

The last car I bought was in 1973 (that should tell everyone something about my age.)  The car I drive most often is my inherited, third-hand, twenty-year-old Camry.  Being a guy and if I had the cash, I could see myself being tempted by a fancy, new car, especially if I went to car shows; but I certainly don't need one.  Having something as nice as, let's say, a Maserati is just too impractical, too expensive to own and maintain, and subject to damage or theft.  Owning it would be just a millstone around my neck.

I have to admit that, my growing up in America, I have been exposed to a highly materialistic society.  Even though my family had little money, there were things that we craved.  This was not helped by the fact that, being very naïve and easily influenced when young, I had a wealthier and very materialistic friend who actually persuaded me to develop interests and hobbies that cost money and saddled me with possessions.  I now wish I had not met him.

There was one category of purchases that probably became an irrational compulsion for me.  I have an irresistible passion for good music; and when I was younger, I had this unrealistic need to supposedly “make permanent” such beauty by purchasing recordings.  I just had to hear that music and hear it again.  It started with LPs.  I still have four feet of LPs that are in pristine condition.  Then there was that wealthy friend who too easily convinced me that the  fine music on LPs would deteriorate from dust and scratches and that I should transfer my favorite music to reel-to-reel tapes.  In addition to my own LPs, I had access to a large quantity of new LPs from a library and figured that additional fact was enough to convince me  to follow his advice, not knowing the cost and effort that would end up being.  In addition to the reel-to-reel machines, I have stored around three hundred tapes.  I never play them because neither the Sony that I had bought nor the Akai that was given to me work anymore.  

There was a time years ago when I (and I really should say we, because that would include my late partner) bought things that made more sense.  It started with acquiring a house with a thirty-year loan.  Then there was furniture and some home furnishings.  Over time, we made a very pleasant home for ourselves.  He has been gone for over seventeen years now, so I no longer feel that urge to acquire things for the home.

Now at my age, my sense of values has become clearer.  Rather than having lots of things, I value foremost good health, wellbeing, loved-ones, good friends, and (because this still is my personal nature) access to beauty.

We humans are easily desirous of things that we think that we would like to have, or think that we absolutely must have.  Yet, too many things end up “owning us,” rather than we owning them.  As the philosopher Bertrand Russell said, “It is the preoccupation with possessions, more than anything else that prevents us from living freely and nobly.”

Now that I am older and have narrowed my interests, I am burdened with what to do with many items.  If I had to move now, I would have to try to sell all the things I don't need, give them away, or lug those things with me.  They have some financial value, but determining those values and going through the long, arduous task of trying to sell them, overwhelms me.  The prominent social thinker John Ruskin once stated, “Every increased possession loads us with new weariness.”

I have fantasized that, provided I were financially secure and had a place to go, I'd move, taking only about ten percent of my possessions with me.  I'd leave the other ninety percent behind either for somebody to sell or to give away.  Then I'd be free of all those things bought during numerous shopping trips.  They no longer would own me.

© 22 April 2014 

About the Author  

 I have had a life-long fascination with people and their life stories.  I also realize that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or fortune, I too have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual ones.  Since I joined this Story Time group, I have derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group.  I do put some thought and effort into my stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.