Attached to Stuff

Why are we attached to stuff? We can't take it with us. In most cases my wife is a born keeper, and I am a born loser. This is to say that she keeps everything and tosses nothing. My wife keeps everything from her drill team uniform from high school (which I understand) to last week's trash (which I don't). My grandpa split with me in high school the price of a Ford F1 and helped me get it running like a champ. You have no idea how badly I wish I still had that thing. Even without an engine or a transmission that sucker is worth a bloody fortune today. The day I let it go I was so sad, not just because it played such an important role in my teenage years, but because it was a part of my identity. And while objects should take a back seat to people, they do still help shape us into who we will become.

I have an alarm clock to this day that was given to me as a graduation gift from high school. If my math skills are still sharp enough to pass muster, I think that makes it forty years old. It still works, and to this day I cannot bring myself to get rid of it. When posed with the question why (usually by my wife), the best answer I can come up with is "I'm not really sure." As far as real worth it's worth zilch, but it is such a part of my history I just can't seem to part with it. It's hard to explain but I have so some sort of strange and twisted "intimate" love for the darn thing. Have you ever had feelings, but you couldn't pin down exactly why.