Minimal Effort: Media Malaise

One thing non-materialistic people need to understand is that materialistic folks have to collect something. Always. That interest may not sustain the passage of time, but bet on that person being in the midst of collecting something at any given moment.

Once I took an interest in movies a bit deeper than American Pie and Rush Hour, I became fixated on the DVD format. This was back when DVDs actually cost money and places like Wal-Mart weren’t practically begging customers to rid them of their inventory at virtually no charge.

In just a couple of years, my knowledge and appreciation of Hitchcock, Kurosawa, Scorsese and the like blossomed. And so did my once modest DVD collection, which by this point, could be better classified as a small library.

Then came an unforeseen family emergency. Almost overnight, my interest in material things dwindled to almost nothing, DVDs included. Though the emergency was ultimately not a worst-case scenario, my thirst to acquire piles of DVDs each month never returned. Those few months caring nothing of material things forced me to realize that my buying had long sped ahead of my ability to watch the damn things.

While my purchasing came to a near-complete halt, it wasn’t until last summer when I realized I could probably stand to part with a good chunk of a collection that had swelled to about 600. At first, I skimmed off the DVDs I absolutely knew I would not watch again. “No, I don’t think I’ll ever feel inclined to watch Friday After Next again. Wait, why do I even own Friday After Next? When did I think this was a wise purchase? No wonder I’m broke.”

Then, I took a deeper plunge, eliminating many of the DVDs I would only possibly watch again. In one impressive tear near the end of the summer, I wiped out enough DVDs to throw away a 300-capacity shelf that had been previously filled up.

My current DVD collection. Looks excessive until you consider this was just half of it until last summer.

I still own about 400 DVDs, though I’m in the process of shaving that number down to 300. Once that happens, I know I’ll be able to skim even further.

Of course, this goes against my once grand vision to build an amazing library of films and TV shows. But somewhere along the way, that shifted to a more sensible mission of having a more intimate (as in small, not erotic) collection of films and TV shows that were personally important and valuable.

This change in mission meant swallowing some pride by admitting that I spent hundreds of dollars on DVDs that ultimately either went unwatched or were not really necessary to own in the first place. It also meant getting pennies on the dollar for most of the titles I parted with. But the end result is worth it: A smaller collection with a more significant meaning to me.

Minimal Effort: Back of the Closet

Unless you live in the mansion from Clue, there aren’t a lot of places in the typical home to stash away stuff. That’s why the person who accumulates constantly and parts with anything rarely will usually have their bed obscured by all sorts of precious curios such as old copies of MAD Magazine and commemorative collectible plates with the 24K gold trim that was only available for a limited time. One of the few places in the average home that you can hide a portion of your belongings in is the closet.

Unfortunately, this apparent convenience is a breeding ground for trouble when you realize you can just throw random shit in the closet and not have to worry about it until you move or die, in which case, it’s only your loved ones that need to worry about said random shit. As a fella who simply owns too much stuff, this described me pretty well (the closet hoarding, not the dying part).

The above is a snap of my closet circa July 2009. I assure you, the American bikini does not belong to me. Mine was not visible in this shot.

If your closet is packed with clothes, but you are ever at a lost of what to wear, it’s probably because you haven’t worn most of the stuff in your closet since 2003. So guess what? It’s time to move those things out of there.

Just so no one can call me a hypocrite who wags his online finger, only to follow the behavior I’m advising against, I took my own advice and started weeding out the closet. I’m probably the 138th person to ever write about getting rid of clothes and the criteria you should follow in doing so. With that in mind, I won’t elaborate. Basically throw away, give away, sell anything you haven’t worn for a good amount of time (I like to follow the range of one to 13 years).

If something has holes, lots of wear, or bodily fluids (you sick bastard), then throw it way. Even poor people don’t want traces of your sperm. If it’s something that is in good condition, then hit up a Goodwill, Salvation Army, homeless person, etc. and donate it. You’ll free up space and stop feeling like a terrible person. Unless you didn’t listen to me and gave them that god damn sperm shirt.

Finally, if it’s something that someone might actually pay money for, utilize eBay. Or if you’re like me, and too lazy to list such things online, check if there’s a resale shop such as Plato’s Closet in your area.

We just got one in the area, so I swung by today to see what they’d take off my hands. If you can handle the sub-par consultation service, irritating music, and two racks of men’s clothes among dozens of racks with women’s clothes, then entertain that option. They didn’t want a lot of my old dress clothes, most likely for their absence of eagles or a moose printed on them. But they did take a couple pairs of sneakers, old jeans, and regrettable DVDs off my hands in exchange for $33.

The stuff they passed on won’t be coming back into my apartment. Off to Goodwill it goes. And yes, all of the garments are free of those aforementioned fluids.

Minimal Effort

Those who know me best could glance at this title and think I’m about to dedicate 400 words to my laziness. Solid guess, but wrong. But since we’re considering those who know me best, they could also probably tell you I’m a bit of a pack rat. Regardless of what was happening in my life, you can pick a year and pinpoint something I was collecting/hoarded.

The basement from my old house. No natural disasters passed through. That's just how it looked.

When I was learning about sharing and the difference between capital and lower case letters in kindergarten, I was often dazing out to think about the glorious WWF wrestling figures I was amassing over the weeks and months thanks to my mom’s regular paychecks. When I was in second grade, I was behind the curve on learning cursive (you see what I just did there?) in part because I was too busy thinking about the latest Spider-Man comic books that were inside my desk. As a seventh grader, I couldn’t set all my attention toward learning some early algebra because I was too focused on my WWF wrestling figure collection at home. Yes, I was a nerd.

As the years passed, my interests (finally) started to shift to more socially acceptable things such as music and movies. But as always, I found a way to turn those interests into a way of hoarding physical possessions. As an aside, I was probably in the right for focusing more on collecting the CDs rather than paying attention to the music, since I was into stuff like Limp Bizkit and Godsmack in those days.

So to bring this home, I’ve collected something almost my entire life. I even have vague memories of dozens of baby bottles under my bed as a two-year-old. But then something happened. I’d like to say it was an epiphany. The truth is, is that it’s now been a three-year shift. I still have an unconditional love for material things. Changes elsewhere, however, have made  more of an admirer of these things, rather than an owner.

I’ve spent the last eight or nine months whittling down my cache of possessions. The process is ongoing and probably won’t be completed for several more months. But since I’m the type of guy who likes to better understand where I am by looking at where I’ve been, I’m going to dedicate quite a few posts here to this whittling down process.

Yeah, I know you can’t wait to read hundreds, maybe thousands of words about me throwing away or selling my things. I’ll sweeten the pot by including lots of pictures of the process so you can feel better about yourself for not hanging on to such stupid shit.