“We live in an age when unnecessary things are our only necessities.”
~ Oscar Wilde
The train that carries passengers into Denver from the west travels through the backyards of several suburban neighborhoods, both high- and low-end, and provides a glimpse into aspects of American life that are usually tucked away behind front door “curb appeal” and pristine, manicured lawns. A recent detour through Clifton offered a similar backyard view.
As an observer, one thing stands out to me regardless of the size of the house or the apparent affluence or poverty of the neighborhood: We have too much stuff, and we don’t know what to do with it all. If the contents of all those backyards isn’t evidence enough, the multilevel, glass-walled, storage rental units that look like fancy apartment buildings should be convincing.
I spent several weekends this summer purging my house and garage of multiple years of accumulated stuff. Most of it was literal trash… broken things “that could be fixed” (if anyone ever had time or energy or cared enough to do so) and random items “we might need someday” (someday is never coming, and if it does, I won’t want it anyway). And then there were the duplicates — a result of having so much stuff haphazardly “put away” it was apparently easier to just buy a new one.
There’s been a lot of hype in the last few years about decluttering methods, from Marie Kondo’s “if it sparks joy, keep it” to Swedish death cleaning, a minimalist approach that ensures our loved ones won’t be saddled with deciding what to do with 14 years worth of random papers when we shuffle off this mortal coil. The popularity of reality TV shows about hoarding may indicate Americans have a problem.
Why are we this way? What compels us to buy and buy and consume and consume until our homes and closets and garages and yards are overflowing? Is it the ridiculous effectiveness of marketing and advertising campaigns? Is it a desire to keep up with the neighbors? Is it fear of lack passed down from our grandparents and great-grandparents who survived the Great Depression? Or does it speak to an underlying state of general dissatisfaction we’re trying to fill with random, mostly unnecessary heaps of stuff?
By NIKI TURNER – editor@editorht1885.com
