Decoration Proliferation

Everyone has it.  The older you are, the larger the growth will be.  It festers and multiplies in the dark recesses of our lives until it becomes overwhelming....

It's the great Creeping Christmas Crap disease. 

No matter which late-in-the-year holiday you celebrate, there's bound to be a proliferation somewhere in your home.  Christmas is the worst though.

Here's how it happens...silently, stealthily.....

At some point in your life you decided it was time to get some Christmas decorations.  Maybe you got married or rented your first apartment.  Perhaps your parents gave you a few of their old decorations but most likely you went to a store and bought some that suited you and you merrily decorated your abode.

After the holiday you packed the decorations up and stored them...in the attic, basement or closet where they'd be safe until next year.  For the remaining 11 months, life went on and you forgot about the sleigh bells and glass balls in the attic.  Before you knew it, it was November and even before the turkey went into the oven, the stores were already loaded with sale priced Christmas decor.  This year there were cool bubble and LED lights and interesting new balls for the tree.  You couldn't avoid it, so you perused and picked up a few more tchotchkes for your Christmas decorating.

In December, Mom gave you a Hummel ornament and if you decided to have kids right off the bat, they made their own ornaments out of construction paper, popcorn, glitter and crayons.   This year your tree was loaded with the new stuff and the original items you had from the attic, but you managed to squeeze most of it on the little tree.  What didn't fit, you hung around the house.

Fast forward to 5 years later.... In the attic are several years worth of new decoration purchases.  You like to change the theme of the tree when you can, but you might want to go back and mix in a few of the older ornaments.  You can't get rid of any of it because each ornament brings back memories of Christmas past, but each year you add to the collection.  Your kids are still young and you still have all their handmade adornments.  Your little tree didn't have enough branches, so you purchased a bigger one, but it already had the lights attached so you didn't need the ones you had.

After a few more years, not all the Christmas boxes came down from the attic.  There isn't enough room for it all, so you had to leave some of it up there, yet each year you accumulate more via after-holiday sales or when you purchased ornaments from different places you visited.

For many in middle age or later, the Christmas "growth" has reached mammoth proportions in the attic.  One recent year, while visiting family I witnessed dozens of boxes, wreaths and miscellaneous jingling bags emerging from the dark void above the garage.  This was the beginning of the process.  A new step was involved...deciding which of the items would be used.  Whatever didn't make the cut was hoisted back up the narrow attic steps to spend another year baking up in the rafters.  There was so much stuff that every empty inch of visible counter space, shelving or other flat surface contained something that glittered or resembled a Poinsettia.  The process of placing it all took at least an entire day, if not more.  Christmas decorating had become a job unto itself.

Nearly every home I visit has a holiday accumulation.  Some are gargantuan.  In some cases 30, 40 or even 50 boxes in the attic contain Christmas items.  Lower boxes are crushed and practically fossilized under the weight of accumulation above them.  Among it all are multiple trees and stands, old tangled strings of lights and dry rotted boxes of ornaments.  Decades old garland disintegrates when touched and plastic tree decorations crumble from years of searing summer attic heat.

The first thing I hear is "Can you sell all that old Christmas stuff for us?"

Nope.  Everyone has more than they need.  They don't want yours too.

Some homes give all holidays equal treatment, so the Christmas accumulation is multiplied many times to include Halloween, Easter, Valentines Day and perhaps Groundhog Day.

Certainly, holiday items that are old enough to be antiques are prized, especially if they survive 50 years of storage, but 99.9% of it is absolutely unsaleable.

Best course?  Do a decoration purge.  Pull it all down, get rid of whatever has not survived the years, donate the rest to a place where those who can't afford to purchase their own decorations can have them to make their own memories.

Honey, we're using it all this year.  I don't care if we don't have the room.  Its Christmas, dammit.

The want of Things

My daily travels take me into the homes of people from different economic strata.  After those visits I often find myself having an introspective self-discussion about what I have just seen.  Recently, I visited the homes of several affluent people.

By "affluent," I don't mean the homes of people like Bill Gates or the CEO of Citigroup.  I'm talking about those I would consider to be in an economic level above mine. I'm not sure what you would specifically call it....probably because I'm not really sure where I fit into the overall scale.  As someone who is self employed, there are times I might feel flush and others when I feel that I'm not much better off than the average sales clerk at K-Mart.  Such is the nature of working for oneself.   The lives of the very top class are so out of line with most people's reality that I can't really have any meaningful discussion about them.  Their lives are dominated by numbers I can't wrap my mind around.

Meeting with people in the "next level up" is always interesting because it is easy to see myself existing in that sort of life.  IF something had been a bit different...if I had chosen a different career in a different place at perhaps a different time, it might be me.

Characteristic of the "next level up" is, of course, a larger home and perhaps a spare one somewhere else... both well appointed in more exclusive neighborhoods. With bigger homes comes more stuff.  Expensive cars, a boat, custom furniture, a fridge in every room.  Things. Gadgets. Lots of them.

My mind often goes through the motions.  "Wow...nice.  That media room would be great to have. Oh, and the Porsche... Maybe if I....... If I had only gone through with my fleeting thoughts about law school....Maybe I should have stayed with that old bat shit crazy girlfriend because her parents were loaded...."  Despite being what I consider to be a minimalist...existing with and being happy with just enough...sometimes I just WANT because I can picture how cool it might be to live in that huge house or lounge around on that boat in an expensive bathrobe without a worry about utility bills or property taxes..  Don't we all?  I know it would be cool.... until I got used to it.  Then it would just be something else I spent a lot of money on and didn't use very often.  Knowing that doesn't stop the desire.  I just try to recognize what is driving it.

What I see is what marketers portray.  Smiling people next to in-ground pools landscaped with exotic tropical greenery, ruggedly good looking men laughing with statuesque women while driving expensive, leather scented sports cars.....  People want that.  They just do.  We're taught to think products and things can make us into those smiling people.

While I'm sure there are plenty of affluent people who are extremely happy with their lives, a good many I meet don't seem to be.  Often I sense that their lives are complicated.  The money they earn and the possessions they have purchased with it have served to make things less simple.  The want of money can make us seek out a vocation not for the love of it, but for the superior levels of income it provides.  Is work fulfilling?  If it sucks, do the things purchased with the money make it all better?  Does it all create more pressure, more stress?  Some problems are completely independent of the size of our pile of stuff.  Relationship issues....problems with the kids, coworkers, lawsuits, the IRS, health issues...  Big screen TV's and a well appointed pool house can't help with any of it.

So, my question is:  Can one be truly minimalist, if one still occasionally wants?  Is true minimalism achieved only when the mind is completely unaffected by the conspicuous consumption of someone who can easily afford to do so?  I'm not talking minimalism in the completely aesthetic sense, but in an overall sense.  After all, I've seen plenty of "minimalist" flats in Architectural Digest.  A million dollar flat, glossy white, overlooking a big city with one sinuous and rather uncomfortable looking $20,000 lounger in the corner.  I'm not talking about that.

Could it be said that in some ways, is minimalism a borne out of  lack of income?  Is it a way to live a happier, lighter, less stressful life without requiring things or endless supplies of cash?  If someone is lucky enough to be born with a huge trust fund, is it less likely he/she will embrace minimalism?  I ask these questions often and never seem to have a good answer.  My guess is...minimalism is an idea that can be embraced in varying degrees.  My guess is that wanting is OK as long as we understand why and don't act on the impulses.  I am truly happy with what I have and relish the thought of enjoying my life with less junk weighing me down.  I can fantasize, can't I?  Might there be vegans who crave a steak but don't eat one?   One is no less vegan for wanting to tear into a juicy grilled Porterhouse...as long as the steak is never eaten.  And so it goes with minimalism.

I like living with less even though a fridge in every room would be pretty darn neat.

C'mon.  How could this not be great...for a little while.

Recession is over...What are you waiting for, folks?

At least that's what I'm hearing. In fact, some reports I read state that the recession has been over for more than a year. I need for the pundits who disseminate this information to ride with me for a few weeks. Opinions might change.

More and more, during my normal visits to potential clients, I am hearing stories of enormous financial distress created through job loss or catastrophic medical expenses.  The last half-dozen jobs we have been contracted to perform involve either foreclosure or business failure due to the economic downturn.

Everyone seems to desperately need money, but there's none to be found.  The recession ended when?   It hasn't ended yet if you ask me. Not according to what I see every darn day.   Even aside from business interactions, few people I speak with think that things are better. So what of these reports that we're on our way back to better days? (We are, but not yet.)

Here's my (potentially twisted) take on it.  Reports of the recession being over are designed to lead us out of our homes and back into the stores.  After all, we're all supposed to benefit from a robust and growing economy.  That only happens when we consume goods and services.  Demand for goods and services drives everything else so it is of paramount importance that those darned consumers get out there and....consume. Never mind if bank accounts are empty.   If we hear only crappy news, we go and hide.  Tell us not to worry, that things are getting better and we might just part with those few dollars we've managed to scratch together.

Well dressed economic experts tell us that we all benefit from an expanding economy. We hear reports about Wal Mart or Target's "same store sales" increasing by x percent year over year.  Economic growth and subsequent stock price growth only occurs when that number is positive.  That is, consumers must come out of their cocoons and spend more in those stores than they did last year.  Now I'm not an economist, but I don't think it is too hard to figure out that for things to always be better, we must always spend more. This year more than last, and next year more than this.  To do that we need more money. An ever increasing amount of money to go out and get more stuff....so everyone will be...better off?  Can that go on forever?

When I last checked, I thought we only had just so much money and world resources. The extra "growth" was in the form of credit. I want more but only have so much money so you just let me pay you later for the extra stuff. We bought everything this way.  Homes, cars, big screen TVs...it was all paid for with IOUs.  We did it for years.  When anyone will lend you money and you've got no skin in the game, it doesn't matter how much a home costs, does it?  No down payment?  No biggie.  Just sign here and worry about it later.   Have a nice day.  Now go shop for furniture.  I credit the Popeye character Wimpy for starting it all. "I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today."

One day, we woke up and wondered how everyone could possibly repay the huge amounts of money on all those IOUs.  Guess what?  Here we are.  Surprise.  Don't worry though, things are getting better. The boo-boo is well on the way to healing. So get out there and start doing what you've always done. Go spend.

I challenge everyone out there..... Why does the economy always have to expand?  Why must we always spend more?   Why couldn't we be OK with what we have?  Wouldn't we all be happier if there wasn't always this underlying pressure to spend more....to have more...for things to always be bigger.

Those homes I visit where the occupants are about to be tossed out by the bank.... They're always full of stuff...tons of it. I wonder how much it all cost new. I bet sometimes it cost more than the house they're about to lose. If I remember my hierarchy of needs from school correctly, there was something in there about shelter but nothing about boats, TVs or new bedroom sets purchased on credit.

Interesting.

Don't worry.  Just sign here.  Nothing bad will happen.

The Clutter in my Virtual Attic

It was time to replace the laptop.  I looked at my nine year old Dell like one might look at an old and ailing pet. I knew the end was near for my old friend.  Surfing the web on the prehistoric monster was like watching paint dry.  I'd often punch in the URL and then go cook dinner or build something, checking occasionally to see if the site had loaded.  No one could say I didn't use things until they owed me nothing.

Time for a family meeting.  Today's topic: Replacing our outdated tech with more efficient devices while keeping our simplification goals in mind.

If there's one thing that advancing technology has provided, it is the ability to do things with smaller, more efficient devices.  Part of our simplifying goal is to get rid of (or avoid) single use gadgets.  If we can replace three items (economically) with one, we give it serious consideration.  This concept is like candy to an electronics loving sugar hound.  I inherited my love of the newest beeping, flashing gizmos from my dad who surprisingly, despite nearing 70 is the go-to guy in the family when anyone is thinking about a purchase that involves a battery or something wireless.  I'd bet money that if we dropped my long deceased grandfather into the 21st century, we'd discover that he had the same affliction.

Despite my disdain for frivolous consumerism, I've been known to be a complete hypocrite when a new electronic gadget is involved.  At least I'm not impulsive.  I typically won't buy anything without exhaustive research and deliberation beforehand.  There are plenty of very chic devices out there, but I'm not convinced that they all have practical value.  Some seem destined to be quickly outdated (relatively speaking, since everything is quickly outdated nowadays) or are simply too expensive for what they do.

With the laptop decision looming, it was time to get my mind into gear.  How could we scale back and sell multiple items which we could then replace with one item.  As I pondered the possibilities in my office, I took note of the train wreck on my desk.  I had a full size desktop with a gigantic flat panel monitor.  A twisted, spaghetti-like mass of cables snaked about in front of me.  Did I need all of this?  Did my monitor need to be so huge?  (I only ended up with it because....it was at one of our auctions.)  Could a new laptop replace all of this volume and perform the same, if not better functions?  The desktop wasn't old, so I could probably sell it and offset much of the cost of the new laptop.  Time to get dad on the phone.

After multiple conversations about processor speeds and hard drive capacities, it was decided that the desktop should go.  With that decision made, I turned to scrutinize the other devices in our home.  We had an old video game system that could be sold since our daughter now had a late generation iPod that played hundreds of games.  Likewise with the portable DVD player since she could also play video on her cassette -sized device.  Now we were getting somewhere.  We were going to ditch the desktop, the older laptop, the portable DVD player and the game system.  Incoming would be one newer laptop.  A huge net gain in simplicity.  What I didn't realize is that I'd have to go through a whole new purging process to make all of this happen.  I'm not talking about the physical items that we were parting with.  That was easy.  More difficult was that  I now had to deal with all the data on my desktop computer.

Although my desktop was only a couple of years old, when I bought it I had the computer tech transfer my old files from my clunker over to the new system.  I never gave a second thought to what might have accumulated in that dark closet known as the the hard drive.  With this decision to downsize, I felt it might be time to sift through the data accumulation and ready the recycle bin.  I had no idea what I was in for.

It turns out that I had some sort of parallel life on my hard drive.  A life that looks like a hoarders house, only in cyberspace.  That life takes up no physical room so it's easy to overlook it during the simplification process, but man.....it was there.  Years and years of accumulated data, documents, saved webpages, bookmarks, photos...you name it.  I had just climbed into one of those attics that fills me with dread every time I poke my head into the scuttle and see the piles and piles of junk.  My own virtual attic from hell.  I needed to fuel up for this one.

After a good hearty dinner, I plopped myself down in front of my over sized monitor and clicked "Explore."  It was a mess.  Random files and folders everywhere, hundreds and hundreds of documents from years gone by.  Folders in folders inside more folders.  I needed a glass of wine. 

To look at every file and make a decision would take a lifetime, so I decided on a rule that works in our physical household...With the obvious exception of family pictures, if it is more than a year old and hasn't been utilized, it goes.  Great thing about computers today....all you do is mouse over the file and it tells you when it was last opened.  Turns out I had crap in there that was 7, 8 even 9 years old.  I practically wore out the delete button in four hours.  In many cases, entire overstuffed folders were ditched.  Nearly half my hard drive ended up in the recycle bin.  Old business letters, recipes we sent to friends, screen shots of long defunct websites, photos of items we posted on eBay...all into the virtual dumpster.  It was almost as good as sex.  Almost.

NOW....I'm ready for the new laptop.  What I discovered is that clutter in our lives can extend well beyond the physical items, but into the virtual world and from there into the psychological world.  Starting with the physical items will naturally lead us through the other layers that are not so obvious.  The desired result being that we eventually free ourselves from the clutter in our minds.

This is what my hard drive looked like.

Godzilla's Bed

That's what I moved today.

It nearly claimed two of us.  Under normal circumstances one might think that a queen sized bed with no mattress or box spring, disassembled into headboard and footboard wouldn't be much of a problem to move.  After all, we've been moving these sorts of things for about a decade.  Today was a first though.  I witnessed and moved the heaviest bed on the planet.  Compared to this thing, a Volkswagen would have been a breeze.

The four posts were about the thickness of the average telephone pole and were too tall to go through the door.  This meant the whole thing had to be turned on its side and scootched out the door.  We couldn't hold it up by the posts, since they were so long and had carved areas that were narrow.  This would have surely  caused the posts to snap off under their own weight.  In the end we used slings and some rather contorted methods of support.  As my lumbar region creaked and groaned I wondered to myself between short gasps of breath, why anyone would need a bed of such massive proportions.  If Atlas needed a bed for a nocturnal romp with Mrs. Atlas, this one would have done nicely.  But the owners were normal human beings.  If any part of it fell on the occupant(s) during the night, death would surely result instantly.

As the hulking monstrosity inched its way toward the front door, I digressed.  What a waste using four entire trees for a bed whose only purpose is to adorn the mattress.    Worse yet, it wasn't even pretty.  The style was a grotesque combination of Eastlake Victorian meets Native American Totem Pole.  Apparently someone thought it was a good idea to manufacture it and even then I'm sure several designers had to give it the thumbs up before it actually went into production.  From there, retailers had to like it enough to order it and consumers had to go bat shit over it enough to buy it.  I'm afraid to know what it cost new.  In any case, there must be a lot of people that think it is attractive.  Then again, lots of things are attractive at 1:45 AM in a dive bar according to the patrons.

This is how far we've come.  Are people actually proud to show other people this sort of thing?  "I don't mean to boast, but this bed resulted in a lumber shortage that affected three states.  Pretty cool, huh?"  No.

It's a bed.

Follow Up:  Apparently someone liked it enough to shell out several hundred dollars for it and then drag it out of the gallery.  Oh.....and for what it's worth, I'm an idiot.  When we set up the bed in the gallery, I told the colorful story of its transport to one of our longtime "ringmen."  His immediate response was "Why didn't you just unscrew the tall posts from the headboard and footboard?"  I told him I didn't see any way to remove them since the junction where the posts met the headboard and footboard were solid.  I mentioned I'd be happy for him to prove me wrong.  Well, he did....in about 45 seconds.  Six inches above the solid junction, the posts unscrewed.  Just call me "mud."  And to think of all those expletives I wasted...

Now this would have been far more entertaining to move. 

Could I live with no car?

After reading a blog about how some minimalists have gone so far as to get rid of their cars, it got me thinking about if it would actually be possible.

In America our sprawling cities and their adjacent suburbs have grown based on the influence of automobiles.  Chain stores and strip centers spring up on main traffic arteries which run for miles.  This type of growth is far different than it was before everyone had a car.  In older cities and towns, all commerce was packed into a city-center where everything from shoe repair to hardware to the butcher shop was located within a radius that rarely exceeded one mile.  After all, if your best and fastest transportation involved a horse and buggy, chances are your business wouldn't last long if it was located 10 miles from the center of town.  Now, to drive 50 miles around town in order to "pick up a few things" is commonplace.  Everything is spread out.

While on vacation in Europe, I noticed how many old city and town centers are largely intact.  I found I was able to walk to everything.  In many cases, a car isn't needed.  Part of the reason is expensive gas.  But there seemed to be another underlying reason.  It seemed to me as if many in Europe like to "keep it simple" and stick with what has always worked.  Folks enjoy getting out and walking or biking.  Purchasing the day's food needs at the street market is a pleasure, not a chore.  Some cities, like Amsterdam are configured such that 40% of commuters use a bicycle instead of a car.  A large percentage of transportation spending is directed at encouraging bicycle use and maintaining bike lanes and signals.  I couldn't even imagine how nearly half of our local population could bike to work.  Everything is just too far apart.  Plus, it's way too   i n c o n v e n i e n t. 

One thing is for sure...there'd be far less obesity if we actually used our own body power to transport ourselves around.

The thought of giving up the car is enticing.  No insurance, which keeps going up.  No gas expense.  No repair expense.  No car payments.  The savings would be more than a bit significant.  I could probably get away with it in a place like Manhattan or Paris, but I live in an average mid sized city where a good amount of what we buy comes from places like Home Depot, Target or Costco.  None of these places is next to the other.  Not even close.  This fact perpetuates the use of automobiles.

Although the distance between most shopping destinations (I hate that expression) is relatively far in miles, it isn't so far that it couldn't be tackled on a bicycle.  I'd go for it IF there was a safe way to do it.  Frankly, there just isn't.  The thought of biking on our main traffic arteries makes me shudder.  These are the ribbons of asphalt frequented by folks in a big hurry...always in a hurry.  They drive Escalades and Yukons while texting or engaging in  heated phone conversations while adjusting their neckties or applying makeup.  Oh, and did I mention they're late?   Always late?  Add this to the fact that the shoulders of most main roads are littered with whatever was pitched out the window, fell off  the undercarriage, or flew out of the open bed of any number of vehicles.  Were talking hubcaps, glass, entire exhaust systems, lumber....you name it.  I've even seen artificial ficus trees, bed frames and <gulp> crushed bicycles.  Top that off with having to breathe in a cocktail of vehicle exhaust.  Nope.  Not even going to try.

And bike lanes?  Ha!  There are a few paths in town...mostly recreational, circling lakes or winding through parks.  Most aren't crowded...ever.  Why sweat on a bike when the TV remote and a bag of potato chips are only steps away?

I got so disgusted over it all that I fought back in my own little way today.  A giant Lowes just opened about a mile away from our home and we needed a few things (replacements for those things that keep breaking - see my earlier post about this) so as I reached for the car keys I stopped and declared "I'm taking the bike."  My family looked at me, stunned, as if I had said I was from Mars.  "I'm doing it.  It's good for me." I said with more conviction.  And so I did.  I took the back roads to a gravel path and cut behind another local strip center to get there.  Surprisingly, they had a bike rack.  One.  I made my purchase, tossed the items into my pack and pedaled home.  Total time, 30 minutes.   Not bad, and I got some exercise.

Within one mile we now have the huge hardware megalopolis, two supermarkets, about four restaurants and a smattering of other stores that would probably satisify most of our fairly meager needs.  I plan to use the bike more often if I can effectively avoid the main roads.  Hopefully, I'll stick with it.  We've managed to stick to other healthy choices, so I'm optimistic. 

It would be nice if we (society) placed more emphasis on biking to work, for health and just to get outside.  It could only be a good thing.  Will I get rid of the car?  Enticing, but not likely unless I move to a big city center or a city that is more bike friendly.  I hear Portland Oregon is the most bike friendly with 9% of its citizens biking to work.  A far cry from Amsterdam, but not bad for America.

This would work...

We're almost there...

We needed some paper to provide our customers with some wrapping for a sale that had lots of fragile items...  What better place to get newspaper than at the recycle center.  When I pulled up I had to wait in line.  A steady stream of cars were filing in to drop off recyclables.  This is heartening.  Considering we live in a world where nobody seems to want to go to any effort to do something that that won't directly benefit them right now, it is nice to see that folks are taking the time to separate recyclables and actually using their own gasoline to haul them to the recycling center.  (It's stupid that we don't have widespread curbside recycling here...absolutely stupid.)

On the other hand, I regularly watch folks pitching recyclables into the trash when there is a bin that says "Bottles Only" or "Aluminum Cans Only" sitting right beside it.  Somehow recycling on a small scale throughout the day doesn't seem to register for many quite yet.  We're doing better, but statistically, when it comes to recycling we lag behind most first world nations by a considerable margin. 

As a family of three, we recycle everything we possibly can.  We even pay a company to collect our recyclables since they actually accept more types of plastics than the recycling center does.  Between that and our dedication to composting everything organic, we only generate enough trash to fill one white tall kitchen bag in a  week.   Our trash service comes once a week and we often take a month or more to fill the bin with trash while our neighbor's bins overflow every week.

Recycling isn't hard, especially when you've built it into your life.  It is normal for any of us in our home to quickly inspect, without thinking about it, any item before it ends up in the trash.  A surprising number of products and packaging materials have recycling symbols on them.  We just need to take the time to look.  The trash bin should be the receptacle of last resort when all other possibilities for recycling have been exhausted.

With only a few exceptions, our government has not been a role model for recycling activity.  A few well proven programs would dramatically improve our scores when it comes to keeping usable materials out of the landfill.

1. A national bottle bill with no exemptions for certain types of beverages.  If it can be recycled, it should be included.  Several states currently have a working bottle bill and there's no question that it gets results.  What better way to encourage recycling than to attach dollars to it.  When I was in college in upstate New York, there were recycling machines on campus that dispensed a nickel for each empty aluminum can we fed it.  Since NY had a 5 cent deposit on bottles and cans, we often accumulated plenty of drinking and pizza money by cleaning up the campus.  I remember walking into the College Union with a green trash bag slung over my shoulder and walking out with two pockets bulging with nickels from the machines.  This was in the 80's and nearly a quarter century later, it seems we've made little progress.

2. Mandatory recycling.  This is a reverse incentive.  Failing to recycle gets you slapped with a fine.  Now there's a revenue generator for cash-strapped municipalities.  In NJ, everything recyclable goes into one bin.  It is then separated at the recycling facility.  Talk about making it easy.  The facility created jobs and can sell the materials.  Where's the downside?

3. Packaging requirements.  Sure, the big corporations will whine about it but they need to get over the whole idea that they can contribute to the wasting of our resources and the polluting of our planet.  Packages would need to be either fully recyclable (at today's standards), or completely biodegradable.  With the technology we have, that shouldn't be very hard.  A better idea would be to make sure EVERYTHING we can buy can be recycled somehow.  Nice, but what are the chances of that?

Even three decades ago this was a no-brainer... more so now.  I don't understand why the rest of the developed world can do this really well and we can't.

We can do this well...if we really want to.

An Increasingly Disposable World

Use it today, then throw it away.

Welcome to today's world of consumer products.  Now, more than ever, thanks to Wal-Mart and the recession, consumers demand products they can buy at low prices.  Simple enough.  What most people don't understand is that a low priced product has a variety of non-monetary costs.  We (Americans) don't seem to care about that as long as it means we can keep a few extra dollars in our pockets.  We should care.

I hear laments daily about how China has become the manufacturing capital of the world and how jobs are vanishing in factories.  No secret there.  In China, young girls work grueling hours in factories making things like electric toothbrushes.  They get paid just a few cents an hour.  Because labor is so inexpensive, it is more profitable to make things in China and ship them here.  That means there's a reason you can buy an electric toothbush for 3 bucks....someone on the other end was exploited.  Additionally, materials and workmanship are often subpar because the focus is on quantity, not quality.  The result... Use it today, then throw it away.

It would be great if we could make things here, but nobody would work in a factory making $3 electric toothbrushes.  The workers union would make sure employees got paid $25 an hour and received full health benefits, pensions and a variety of other perks.  When all was said and done, that toothbrush would cost $12.  When placed side by side at the store, which one do you think would sell better?  We can make all the arguments we want for buying American.  When we get to the checkout counter and have to count out the dollars, things change.  This is simple economics.

The deeper problem is that we've made physical price the most important attribute when shopping.  We want more stuff for the amount of money we have so the compromise is to make items of inferior quality that can be sold for less.  Nothing is made very well anymore.  What used to be made from steel is now plastic and what was made of thick plastic is now made of thin plastic.  More and more, the products we buy are designed to last a shorter amount of time.  Lower price means shorter product life.  Planned Obsolescence.  Made to break so we'll buy another, then another.  The words "They don't make 'em like they used to." are very true.  Instead of one good $12 electric toothbrush, we'd rather buy six $3 toothbrushes over the course of a few years.  That's five extra broken devices in the trash.  A monumental waste.

It is amazing how many products end up in the trash.  To illustrate...Just today....I was working in the garden.  I decided to take the tarp off of the henhouse since the intense summer sun is no longer a threat to the well being of our chickens.  The tarp is about disintegrated...after one season because it was manufactured using the thinnest material possible.  Into the trash it goes.  We have two oscillating sprinklers in the garden.  Neither of them oscillates anymore.  They just flood one area of the garden.  We thought they looked pretty sturdy when we bought them last year, but I guess they weren't.  I'm tossing them in favor of a sprinkler with no moving parts.   The hose guides we placed in the ground to keep the hoses from crushing the plants are all broken.  They're made of plastic.  Our patio umbrella needs to be dumped as well.  It broke on a breezy day.  The ribs were thin and cheap and could hardly stand anything more than a light breeze.  One of our lawn chairs needs to go as well.  One of the welds in the frame broke.  None of these items are more than a year or two old.  They all need replacing...already.  Multiply this scene by the millions of households in our country and you know why the Home Depot is jammed every weekend.

For most products, there is a lack of high quality alternatives and so we are stuck buying and re-buying the same products.  This all but ensures a predictable cash flow for the manufacturers.  Great for the stockholders, bad for the average consumer and the rest of the world as our landfills accumulate all the stuff that was designed to break.  Engineers spend hours in back offices designing products with a very predictable life cycle.  A critical part is designed to last only so long under average use before it fails.  That length of time needs to be long enough for the customer to feel like he or she received "enough" service out of it to justify buying the same product again when it fails.  If it breaks too soon, there is a risk the buyer will choose a different product.

When I was a kid, the thought of any "durable" product lasting only one year was unconscionable.  We had the same lawn sprinklers until I was a teenager.  Stuff actually lasted for awhile.  Now we're used to constantly replacing things.  It can only get worse from here.

It might be nice if we could get past needing more junk that costs less and focused on buying only what we really need.  Then we'd have a few bucks to pay a fair price for something that might have a life cycle that isn't measured in weeks.  We'd also stop wasting our natural resources that are currently used for making junk that ends up in the landfill.  Time to get past "Low price trumps all."  We really do get what we pay for and indirectly, we even pay for what we don't get in the form of exploited resources and people.

How long should this product last?

Out of Sight.....

" I'll just put it in storage until the market gets better."

When I hear that, I want to tear my hair out. 

I'm reading a book called "Predictably Irrational."  It deals with how people don't make decisions based on logic.  Really?  The auction business and life, for that matter is loaded with examples of people acting irrationally...heck...ridiculously if you ask me.

The prevailing attitude about storage units proves this point.

Before I go on, here's my take about putting possessions into storage:  Unless you have been involuntarily displaced from your home by some real estate closing mess up or perhaps a fire or flood, there is no rational reason to be paying for a storage unit.

I hear folks bragging about HAVING a storage unit like it was a beach house or a yacht.  "Oh yesss, we have all of mummy's things over at OUR storage facility.  We keep things there until we decide what to do with them."  Nothing like paying $100 a month to not make a decision. 

I recently read that the average storage unit is rented for 8-12 months.  That's just average.  Around here a storage unit without climate control averages 75-85 bucks a month.  Add AC and it climbs to $120 or more.  A year's worth of payments could buy you a very nice shed with the same interior dimensions.

Here's the irrational part.  If it's in storage, you obviously don't need it.  Why do people pay to hang onto things they don't need?  And why do people treat storage units like they're free?  I recently told a potential client that her dining room set wasn't in high demand since people don't do much formal dining anymore.  As such I didn't expect the entire set to bring more than a couple of hundred dollars.  There was also a huge, heavy 1960's dark wood bedroom set and some 70's upholstered stuff.  Way out of style.  Not worth much.  Now here's the quote that got me:  "If I won't get much for it, I'll just put it in a storage unit for a couple of years until the market gets better."

Rational.  Most assuredly.

In my opinion, her furniture was worth maybe $400 total.  So, lets do some math.  Two years times a good deal at $75 a month equals $1,800....and everything will be two years older and probably mildewed, delaminated and arachnid infested from our stiflingly humid climate.  Yup, makes perfect sense.  Isn't it enough to be upside down on your house?  Sure, go ahead, be upside down on your old furniture too.  Can somebody 'splain this to me?

I've looked at hundreds of storage units full of stuff.  Some folks admitted they had been storing the contents for five years or more.  I wouldn't admit that.  That's like admitting you fell for the Nigerian Your-long-lost-cousin-just-left-you-3.2-million-dollars e-mail scam.  Even funnier is that most people don't even remember what is in the storage unit(s).  Let me get this straight....The stuff in here is important to you, but you've forgotten what it is?    Madness.  Many, but not all of these corrugated cubicles are filled with items of minimal market value that have now sucked up enormous amounts of money in storage fees.

A good friend of mine once said  "Everyone is entitled to my opinion." He was smiling when he said this.  So here's my "professional" opinion that will make life lighter, and cheaper.

1. If you don't have a storage unit, good for you.  Don't ever get one if you can avoid it.  Have a cookie.

2. If you have one, ask yourself why you have it.  I know there are legitimate reasons to have one, but not wanting to make a decision about what to do with things isn't a legitimate reason.  A storage unit makes it easy to put off dealing with things.  Deal with them.  Dispense with what isn't essential.  If it holds memories, take a photograph of it and then sell the item.  Does it make sense to drag around grandma's old 200 pound sewing machine?  Are you ever going to use it?  Is it worth paying hundreds or even thousands over the years to keep it?  Would she demand that you keep it if she knew how much it was costing you to do so?

3. Add up how much you have spent on storage fees.  Write it on a piece of paper and leave it somewhere conspicuous.  When you get another rent statement, cross off the old amount and write the new total amount under it.  Look at that number and think of all the better things you could do with that money AND the money you'd get from selling everything that was sitting in there growing mold.  Even if you don't get much for the items, you'll still be way ahead because you won't have the rental fees.

4. Still not convinced?  Get rid of the storage unit anyway and bring the contents home.  After tripping over some of it for a few months you'll be ready to make some decisions. 

Just do it.  You'll be happy you did.

Self Storage:  For a monthly fee, you can choose to not deal with the stuff cluttering your life...indefinitely.

Angry Rodents

No minimizing hints from me today.  Nothing really blog-worthy at all.  An observation though.....

Squirrels are the most pissed off, irritated little furry bastards on the planet.  I'm sure you've all heard that shrill alarm sound.  That hoarse "chip, chip, chip, chip....hwarreeeeeee,  hwareeeeee.

Yes, they're cute when they hang upside-down and pillage all the bird seed from our feeders, but mostly they're just angry.   Angry like terrorists or Lewis Black or the people in the HOA gestapo in some neighborhoods.  "Chip, chip, chip, your trash receptacle cannot be left in plain sight, those are unapproved colors on your front door, hwareeeeee, hwareeeeee.

They're angry when I leave for work and when I come home.  They're pissed when I start up my truck. They're irritated at the cat for eating her food or for just sleeping on the deck.  They bitch at the chickens, lizards, frogs and everything else that makes noise or moves.  Somehow nature invented a critter that takes crotchetiness to a whole new level.

They chew and dig their way through our garden.  I wish they'd eat those bright red, incendiary Thai peppers I'm growing instead of everything else.

Is life that bad, little guys?  Take a squirrel Xanax

Temper....temper.   Take a chill pill, fuzzy.

. 

A Gift Certificate to a Parent's Worst Nightmare

"Dad...can we go to Toys R Us today so I can use my gift certificate?"  My daughter's birthday was this past Saturday.  It was a present for her ninth..  A "choose your own gift" present.   I knew what we were in for.  

Things had changed significantly since I was her age.  Most toy stores weren't much bigger than a gas station convenience store.  More often than not, the toy section at the local department store was where we got to choose our prize...on ultra-rare occasions.  That section was typically one side of half an aisle, the other side  typically had things like paper plates or charcoal for our barbecue.  We didn't have much choice.  That was a good thing.  Today, shopping for toys with the recipient is like stepping into a swamp full of crocodiles.  The whole idea is emerge with minimal damage.

I graduated from college as a marketing major.  I own my own business and have extensively studied the many facets of a discipline that exists solely to encourage people to buy things.  One of the more sinister sides of marketing involves the promoting of products to children.  Young children are sponges, their still-soft craniums easily penetrated by repeated brand-building messages.  They are defenseless in the shadow of marketing experts who have done everything shy of attaching a bunch of electrodes to a toddler while he or she is bounding down the aisles of a toy store.

If too much choice can paralyze adults, imagine what it can do to children.  I knew this wasn't going to be a short visit.  The whole thing was further exacerbated by the fact that there was practically nothing in the building that either I or her mom would approve of.  As far as we were concerned most of it was overpriced plastic junk that would end up unused in a few days.  Rather than fight every choice she made, I felt it would be prudent to simply allow her to choose anything she wanted, as long as the item and the batteries it required were covered by the value of the gift card.  While the unknown end result scared me, it would enable her to see, once again, that the toy typically isn't as fun as it looks.

I cast her off to choose and decided to do my own perusing to see what had become of the toy market.  Frankly, I was shocked.  So much so that I couldn't help but break out my phone to snap pictures...lots of them.  Our daughter took 1 3/4 hours to choose a $25 toy.  In that time, I confirmed my initial suspicions that there is little, if anything of any good for a child at the Toys R Us.

Below is my photo-by-photo assessment...

Above is the Hot Wheels AISLE.  I had a bunch of these as a kid and didn't realize that they now required one whole row to contain them.  To build a full collection including accessories would probably require 30 year financing.  I've been in houses that contain about 1/2 of what is here.  It isn't pretty.

 

 

Some time ago, my daughter had a Nintendo DS.  We made her trade it in for her iPod Touch.  We feel that one important lesson for kids is to learn that you can't have everything and that sometimes getting what you want requires a sacrifice.  Above is the accessory section for the Nintendo.  Cases, straps, stickers and other assorted expensive "bling".

I was astonished to discover that most of this aisle was dedicated only to Avatar figurines.  I suspect the products were created to sell the movie and not the other way around.  Either way, this is a prime example of how the movie fantasies are difficult to separate from the products.

Apparently, toy stores now have a car lot.  The only thing missing was a well dressed salesman chain smoking near the door at the ready to discuss what it would take to "get the deal done today."

Way to go!  Lets encourage our kids to drive gas guzzling Escalades.  Not only that...throw in a  thumping sound system so you can be heard from a block away.  I give points for the "Hybrid" sticker though.

Talk about absolutely milking a brand for everything its worth.  This is the "Hello Kitty" section.  I need to figure out who the parent company is so I can buy their stock. 

Apparently someone was smoking crack when they came out with this one.  Its a brush that....get this....doubles as a microphone.  Note the sale sticker.  Buy two and get one free.  I wouldn't even buy one.  Scratch that....I wouldn't take one if you gave it to me.

By this point I was beginning to be entertained by all this product insanity.  My marketing mind silently asking..."What the hell were they thinking...?"

Here's my question.  At what point do you stop giving your kids cute things like Tickle-Me-Elmo and start buying them things like this? 

Umm...OK.  I bet you can hear the wheels turning in my mind.

Let's compare:

Electronic dog - 200 Bucks

Live dog - Free

Electronic dog doesn't need food and won't crap on the carpet or chew on the chair legs.

Live dog doesn't need $20 worth of batteries every few hours.

Tough choice.

Oh yes.  The ubiquitous Bratz - which for some reason needs to be spelled incorrectly.  Nothing like teaching our kids that it is great to be an overindulged, make up crusted...brat.  Now there's one boy brat.  He's the bad boy...probably had all the girl bratz behind the dumpster already.

This kitchen has more gadgetry than my real kitchen.  I want  a place to charge the cell phone next to my sink.  Oh and columns...must have architectural columns.

Next to that kitchen were the lower grade kitchens...for mommies and daddies that don't make enough money to afford a kitchen your tyke friends would be proud of.  "But Courtney has an INDUCTION range..."

Lets play "Who can be fatter!!!!

Get started on your Goth.  Skeleton earrings and black nail polish.

I couldn't pronounce any of the ingredients.  What are the chances its Organic?

Yayyyy.  I can make shitty pizza and play video games for eleven seconds per token.

One hour in....she wandered the aisles, eyes glazed over, mumbling "Must be a good little consumer...yes, I must."

 

I couldn't figure out what you did with these.  It makes spots.  Well, so does my cat if we don't let her out.  But the box sure is pretty.

I have no appropriate words for this one.   It defies description.

The teeth are embossed with the four aces from a deck of playing cards.  Role models anyone?

Get your product on the baby.  Waste no time.

Artificial cheddar crackers with artificial color and flavor.  You'll look like the package if you eat enough of them.

I'm in Toys R Us.  This is in the baby section.

What?  Even Yahtzee isn't immune to being dressed up and sold as something different.

Welcome to the world of product line extensions.  The whole purpose of this is to get more shelf space and ensure that you won't buy just one Monopoly game, but three or four.  I couldn't find regular Monopoly here.  I looked for ten minutes, but I did find Dog-opoly on the lower shelf.  So much for the classics.

I'm 44 and I'm not even really sure....They look good, but I CAN'T eat them.  Give this to a 2 year old!

Yes, that's right.  1,007 pieces.  After a play or two, 945 pieces.  And yes, $109.  

I've just gotta get her through a few more years.  

Some other observations....I turned over about 100 random items, only one was made in the USA and one was made in Mexico.  The rest?  You guessed it - China.  Even the September 11th special commemorative fire engine with lights and sounds was made in China.  Probably by kids not much older than those walking around the store.  It's too much.  It shouldn't be this way. 

In the end, my daughter chose a radio controlled car.  I suppose it could have been worse.  It took 45 minutes to get it out of the package.  The convoluted process required tools including a Phillips screwdriver to remove the locking flanges from the styrofoam base to free the car from its silvery mounting.  The packaging weighed twice as much as the car and none of it was recyclable.  Oh well.  She's been playing with it for one day.  I'll report on when she stops.

If I Had a Rocket Launcher...

"...I'd make somebody pay."

Some years ago I remember that line out of what seemed to be a rather silly song.  The artist's name escapes me.  I imagined a modern day common, everyday Joe vigilante with an RPG launcher perched on his shoulder looking like a stereotypical Taliban fighter except he was wearing jeans, Docksiders and a "Life is Good" t-shirt.  He'd be patrolling the neighborhood, doling out justice via jet propelled high explosives.  Yesterday, I wanted to be him.

Have you ever witnessed something that absolutely made steam burst from your ears...something that pissed you off so much you couldn't possibly wrap your mind around what sort of stupidity could have spawned it?

Yesterday, I got on my bike and took a ride down a recently discovered gravel road that cut through the woods for quite a distance behind our neighborhood.  The path was one of several built by the local utility authority in an undeveloped area in order to run water lines.   The ride began pleasantly enough.  The woods flanked me on both sides.  There were no cars, no people, no houses...just birds, rabbits and the odd snake.  Then I came upon it.

In the middle of the pristine woods sat a monumental pile of someone's household refuse.  An overstuffed sofa presided over the scene, one arm busted off, its outdated floral upholstery mildewed and frayed, exposing the waterlogged stuffing inside.  Joining it were several mangled appliances, a crushed TV, a well used broken recliner and an array of multicolored plastic, broken glass and what appeared to be someone's laundry pile.  Apparently someone had gone to the trouble of loading it, hauling it into the woods and simply dumping it, obviously figuring that their world was better off if they didn't have to look at it.  It would now be someone else's problem.  I would certainly have to look at it more than once if I decided to bike on that particular route with any regularity.

I absolutely couldn't believe that people still did this sort of thing.  I then chastised myself for being so naive.  I remembered as a kid, living in New York City's outermost borough, how nearly every semi-secluded road was often littered with old furniture, green trash bags and the rotting hulks of other large discarded items.  It was common practice to simply dump stuff when it was too inconvenient to bring it to a proper landfill.

I thought in recent years that we, as a society, were more concerned about our environment.  The days of tossing wrappers and garbage out of vehicles seemed to be something long since passed.  I guess not.

I biked on, grumbling expletives.  Not a half mile further, another pile.  This time it was construction debris.  Busted bricks, cinder blocks, old storm windows and door frames.  Worse yet, there wasn't even an attempt to toss it aside.  It sat in the middle of the path, the imprints of truck tires indicated that the road now swerved to the right...around the pile that had clearly been there for some time.  I continued...incredulous.  I was now mentally noting occasional objects that had been wantonly tossed into the woods, peeking from the undergrowth.  A lizard sunned himself on the remains of an aluminum lounge chair, I could make out the front panel of a dishwasher, a tire, an artificial ficus without its pot.  Some items looked recently abandoned while others had clearly been there for awhile.  This was not the work of one person, but many perpetrators over time.  I could feel myself squeezing the trigger on that grenade launcher.... a fiery ignition and immediate explosion incinerating pick up truck, contents, driver and any accomplices...the black sooty smoke and acrid smell of burning tires and sofa cushions filling the air.  My mental revenge exacted, I turned around and headed home...completely disgusted.

I know that in many areas here a bulk trash pickup is free.  Even if I leave things at the curb, most of it will disappear...picked up by metal salvors or folks who just need a couch...any couch.  I've brought stuff to the dump and it isn't expensive to drop it there... so why?  Why are people so damned thoughtless and stupid?

Somebody please tell me.

Excuse me.....Can I borrow that?

Excuses, excuses....

I still have too much stuff.

Today I woke up with the idea that I'd get rid of some more belongings.  In order to assist with the day's culling I tried to imagine a situation that might force me to make a quick decision about things.

What if I had to move from my home quickly due to.....a nuclear attack?  Nah..too focused on just surviving.  A job offer in another country?  Perhaps.

I ran through the hypothetical options one at a time trying to come up with best scenario that would force me to make educated decisions about what stays and what goes.  Moving to another country seemed best.  It didn't have life threatening implications and I had to seriously think about hauling my things a great distance, which I didn't ever want to do.  In that case an item's weight and bulk would influence the decision.

Even though I don't think I own an awful lot, I do own some big things.  One of my favorites is an antique grandfather clock.  We're not talking about a Howard Miller you buy at the furniture store.  We're talking Big Ben..a monumental mahogany monolith that stands nearly eight feet tall and inclusive of the weights that run it, it likely tips the scales at nearly four hundred pounds.  I believe it has enough mass to create its own gravitational field.  Shipping the thing would be logistical and expensive nightmare.  It would have to go.  Nothing to discuss.

I stood in the living room and looked up at it...towering above me.  Just then I became paralyzed.  I didn't want to sell it.  After all, what were the chances I'd find another?  Actually, quite good now that we have the internet.  But...but...I really liked it.  No, I didn't need it, but I loved the way it looked in the corner of the living room.  It had character.  I was making excuses as to why it needed to remain where it is.  What else would I put in that corner under the vaulted ceiling?  Whatever went there needed to be huge since the space was large.  I needed to envision me....in a smaller space.

And so today I went on making excuses as I perused my possessions.  I might read those books...  That chair is so comfortable....  But it's so COOL.  It was clear I wouldn't be spending any time with the digital camera or eBay today. 

Minimizing is a process.  Some days it is easy and on others I just don't want to make decisions about getting rid of things.  After paring back for some time, I'm reaching into the core of my possessions...the things that mean something to me.  It makes the process harder as the number of things I own goes down.   Early on in the process I didn't care so much about a lot of the stuff I had.  I probably had it all because I never got around to getting rid of it.   Closets and drawers were loaded with crap I didn't use.  This made the first cull very satisfying.  A lot went out the door, but now it's getting harder.  I need to overcome my own resistance to letting go...I can't let my belongings define me.

I'll steel myself and try again..

A Transgression

A simple life.....a less cluttered life...a more self sufficient life.  Although my aim is to live all three, there are subtle differences in each description.

As part of living a more self sufficient life, we abandoned our lawn service.  I figured mowing was good exercise and would save us the money we threw at the lawn guys on a monthly basis.  Initially, to lessen our impact on the environment, we ordered an old fashioned reel mower.  No emissions, plenty of exercise.  Awesome. When it arrived, Andrea tried it out first.  I watched.

In about 10 minutes, it was obvious that some things don't work out as planned.  Our southern lawns are coarse.  Our grass isn't the fine bladed, cool and soft-on-the-toes stuff we grew up with in the north but rather a mat of running roots and tough green stems.  Our soil is well....sand.  Soft sand.  The idea of effortlessly trotting from one side of the yard to the other using a human powered lawn cutter was quickly shattered.  The blades bogged down in the runners and the sand swallowed the wheels.  The result was not pretty.  Every ten feet, the mower had to be upended and the blades cleared.  I figured it would take about 14 hours to mow our 1/2 acre.  Add to that the stifling heat and humidity and the scene quickly degenerates into a cursing, sweating nightmare.

I tried to tell myself  "That's how it got done in the past."  It didn't work.  The intent was not to make us miserable, but strike a balance that worked for us.  We disassembled the mower, packed it up and sent it back.  While zero emissions and no noise would be great, the trade off was too much.  We investigated electric mowers but the thought of being tethered by a cord didn't excite me.  When we thought about it, there was no real gain, since electricity is typically generated around here using coal, which polluted the air.  Next, we looked at battery power.  Although promising, we noted that the battery capacity was only about 15-20 minutes.  Fine for a small lawn, but inadequate for our tough grass and relatively large lot.  It appeared we would have to return to the fossil fuel powered world if we were to keep our sanity.

Our new self propelled Toro seemed perfect for the job and it was easy to maneuver, but over time I realized our lawn was tougher on equipment than I had anticipated.  Our soft sand still made for some tough going and the assorted detritus constantly raining from our trees didn't help.  Our magnolias have tough leathery leaves and drop grenade-like pods that, when mowed over, are akin to hitting a piece of lumber.  Our oaks didn't help either with their millions of hard acorns and tough leaves that don't shred easily.  In one year, the underside of the mower had been thoroughly destroyed and the self-propel mechanism failed to operate.  To make matters worse, we needed a weedeater to get into corners and around the garden fence....yet another investment in equipment that would require maintenance and be subject to our harsh yard.

With the mower now out of commission and the lawn now tall enough to hide most African predators I made a snap decision today.  I called the lawn guys.  "We can be there in an hour..." the voice crackled on the other end of the phone.  "Do it,"  I replied.  In exactly an hour the landscapers arrived and dispersed across our lot with their industrial grade arsenal of lawn taming equipment.  Giant mowers and blowers whined in stereo and whizzing monster string trimmers made quick work of anything green that resisted a haircut.  In 15 minutes, they were gone and the lawn and yard looked better than it had in the last year.  We had come full circle.

As I stood outside, the dust of freshly shredded grass still settling, I felt oddly guilty.  We had gone backwards with self sufficiency and settled back into our old default which was having someone else deal with the lawn.  I caved.

I know many people who enjoy getting outside and mowing the lawn.  I'm not one of them.  I despise it, especially in the intense mid-summer heat and humidity.  Mosquitoes and sprawling spider webs draped between tree branches don't add anything nice to the experience.  Because I feel that way, I put off the job and as a result, our place often looks like shit...overgrown like one of those foreclosures you see in neighborhoods so often.  My compromise is the lawn guys. 

I justify the decision in two ways:  My life?...well, now it's simpler.  I don't have to mow.  My life is also less cluttered in that I don't have to keep, store and maintain lawn equipment.  The shed will be emptier (as will my wallet).  I still feel guilty ...like I didn't try hard enough.  I guess I'll take two out of three.

I tried.  Honest I did.  Let 'er rip guys.

Now that might be the solution.  Zero emissions too!