Parrot Nation

Well? How much is enough? Easy enough question. But not many people have the answer. Bernie Madoff certainly didn’t. And look where that got him.

We are trained by the media to buy, buy, buy. We need that toaster oven, that pasta maker, the doughnut fryer, the 92-piece Calphalon cookware set, and the gourmet body scrub. We deserve the immersion blender, the stand-alone jewelry cabinet the size of a side-by-side fridge and that “Precious Moments” figurine.

Just for the record I hate those damned things. I hate Precious Moments stuff almost as much as I hate Capodimonte stuff. They’re dust-catchers and so over-the-top cheesy in my book that I cringe when I see them.

Maybe it’s just me, but I wouldn’t have this in my house on a bet.

I’ve come to a conclusion. We all have too much shit. Well, you may not have enough shit, but I’ve determined that I do and whether I’ve used it or not, whether it is of some “value,” or if it could be useful someday, here is the deal:

If it doesn’t make my life better or easier, bring me joy, is of use in the immediate future or makes me feel good about having it in my life, it’s gone.

I am also over the guilt of getting rid of something just because it belonged in my family or it belonged to my parents or anybody else that decided to give me some of the shit they didn’t want, didn’t have room for or felt that I should be the one to look after this particular pile of shit.

If it was so damned important to them, they should have taken it with them. And in the future, do your family a favor: Don’t do that. Do not guilt your kids or Grandkids into keeping your shit after you exit. It’s not fair. I’ve kept a few things, but I’ve culled a lot of stuff that did nothing positive in my life. It just sat there. It took up space. It made me feel bad.

Okay, okay…You can Ebay me to death, but I’m simply not going to do that. Why? I don’t have the patience for it. I don’t much like going to the grocery store let alone trot my keester down to Fed Ex and mail something to someone if I can just drive 6 minutes away to Goodwill with a bunch of other crap and make someone else happy by bringing it into their home. I want it out of here now dammit, before I change my mind and just throw it out.

I am tired of being the steward of a bunch of “Stuff” I don’t want to have to deal with anymore. I don’t want to look at it, dust it, deal with it, trip over it, move it or think about it. I’m done. Obviously, I’m not particularly good at organizing.  So, the less I have, the less I have to deal with and organize. So to me, it’s simply logical. I no longer want stuff I don’t use, don’t need, don’t want or can’t find happiness in. I can find happiness in a clean sink.

Good example for you. I have four pilsner glasses.

They were given to me by the Mom of a boyfriend I dumped over a decade ago. (Trust me, he deserved it.) I’m not much of a beer drinker. I think I used one of these once. And yet, here I am, probably 15 years later, still looking at these damned things, still having to dust them once in a while and still having them take up space in my house. Why? I don’t use them, I didn’t buy them, and I have no reason to keep them.

As we are known to say in the airline business, “Buh-Bye.” Nice? Yes. Pretty? Yes. Useful to me? Umm, no.

I think I’ve about had enough.