As I Recall: Trash versus treasure

One person's trash is another person's treasure... perhaps, in part, that generalization is the basis for such varying enterprises as junkyards, antique shops and eBay. Treasure, in fact, is much in the eye of the beholder. The individual designation of treasure can range in reasons from perceived usefulness to sentimentality. Sometimes a missing part or component, when united with a seeker who perhaps has been engaged in a lengthy and hitherto desperate or frustrating search, can actually serve to revive or transform something which otherwise might be relegated to the category of trash. An object as small or seemingly insignificant as a screw or bracket can make all the difference between useless and useful. The preceding observations can sometimes contribute to a reluctance on the part of some [and often I am part of that "some"] to dispose, dispense of or relinquish things to a trash or donation barrel. Can you recall an instance in which suddenly, you had an unanticipated need or desire for something that only recently you had opted to discard? The occurrence may not be frequent, and perhaps have happened only once, but sometimes once is enough to feed the tendency to hang onto or hold on. While not necessarily the primary reason, it may be that one cause for this reluctance stems from events from close to 100 years earlier, during the Great Depression and World War II. In that time period, ranging from economic to patriotic reasons, many items were scarce. In one way, the concept of "reduce, reuse, recycle" was an active practice of many households long before the creation of "Earth Day." Many of those who lived or grew up in that generation could sometimes appear to have an obsession with retaining any type of "scraps" with the idea that even if at the moment there was no perceived or conceived usefulness, eventually there might be. In the defense of that group, there were different public initiatives which encouraged such thinking, such as paper drives, scrap metal drives and rubber drives. Even cooks were encouraged to save "used fats" and convey them to their local grocer, who in turn, sent them to a designated government area which was able to use them in the production of ammunition. Radio advertisements, as well as other media, urged everyone to "save used fats for use against the enemy." The sentimentality perspective is also a major driver of the "retention reflex," a term which as far as I know I have originated [and not to be confused with the transposed phrase "reflex retention," which I did locate courtesy of Google.] This perspective is why I have several shoeboxes full of various cards received from family and friends over the years. Only occasionally, and usually when I am taking down a box from the closet to add more content, do I look at the collection, but there is an inexplicable comfort in just knowing that the cards are there. At the same time, paradoxically, knowledge of these boxes creates stress because another part of me realizes that these items are... dare I say it... clutter, which hurts my heart in an irrational way. While I realize that the most important aspect about the items is the love and regard with which they were conveyed, and that would endure, somehow the thought of disposing [even if opting for the environmentally friendly and responsible choice of paper recycling] is [to over dramatize just a bit] devastating. Nonetheless, there are a few other items which I have acquired which may seem to have more justification for retention. On a few occasions I have utilized one of the venues I referenced earlier, eBay, and thanks to what I will call this electronic marketplace [as opposed to what some may otherwise term the "junk exchange."] I was able to locate and procure some items which I have mentioned in previous articles: a duplicate of an obscure Christmas record [and perhaps it may have been obscure even when my family obtained the original copy] entitled "Christmas at Our House," and the "Sputnik" Christmas tree topper. While these may be "junk" or "trash" in the hands of others, in my hands they are treasure. Lately, I have been considering the "trash versus treasure" quandary from another standpoint... an electronic or technological one. Via several email accounts, I have accumulated quite a large number of messages. My workplace has mechanisms in place to assist with mailbox management, but for the other accounts, it is essentially up to me. I will report that over the past several weeks I have made some progress in deleting, but in some cases the nagging concern of future need or want remains. I have no inflated opinion of my writing, but if anyone wants any articles from years past, I can oblige readily! ••• Mike Baker is a local author.