Other than guns and maybe knives, I don’t know that I’ve ever been much of a “collector” of anything. Oh sure, I’ve thought of collecting stuff before — watches, for example, if I were ever in a position to afford such a collection — but perhaps it’s a factor of growing older that the desire to own stuff of any one particular kind is no longer as attractive to me as it once was.
A good example is that of the aforementioned watches. I’ve long had a list of watches I’d like to own, simply because I love the workmanship and craft involved in the creation of such creatures. Then my list began to shrink, and a few criteria started to assert themselves: no battery-powered — or “quartz” — movements, and even automatic movements began to lose their desirability because, frankly, they keep shitty time, almost regardless of their cost. So: manual-wind watches. And then when I acquired my plain-Jane Tissot as a gift (thankee thankee, you-know-who):
…my earlier desire for other watches just evaporated. (I have a couple others which I wear, very occasionally, for specific occasions, but this Tissot works wonderfully well for me, 99% of the time.)
Shocking as it may be to some, this “shrinkage” has started to manifest itself in my most long-time passion, guns. (You may administer smelling salts at any point, now.)
Seriously. I have a few guns that I judge as essential for self-, home- and social defense needs, and a very few sentimental favorites — the Browning High Wall 1885 in .45-70, the Winchester 94 in .30-30 and of course the Mauser K98 in 8x57mm, to name but some, and then the plinking equipment (which don’t count because, of course, .22 guns are household appliances and not guns, as I’ve stated ad nauseam in the past).
Unlike many of my acquaintance, I have absolutely no interest — none whatsoever — of chasing after the latest whizzbang offering from SIG or Canik or whoever, so forget newly-manufactured guns, in toto.
But as I cast my eyes upon the contents of Ye Olde Gunne Sayfe on occasion, I sometimes wonder whether I should perhaps just get rid of a few outliers not because of financial reasons*, but simply because I cannot see myself shooting them ever again. And having reached that realization, what point is ownership?
In one of my occasional Lottery Dreams (see the post above), I often wonder what car or cars I’d get to replace the Tiguan, and what’s interesting is that I’m having precisely the same feelings that I have with guns and watches: nothing of recent manufacture at all — especially given that they’re all without exception loaded with electronic gizmos I don’t care for, or else gizmos that spy on you and/or could possibly be used to control your driving. In fact, the more I think about it, I’d probably have to go back to pre-1970s cars — fully resto-modded of course — to find a car that has not a single computer chip in its driving operation. And yes I know, modern cars are so much more efficient and economical than their forebears, but frankly, I’m prepared to put up with all the hassles involved with a stick shift and carburetors, for example, just as I’m prepared to have to manually wind my wristwatch every day or work the bolt of my rifle. (If push came to shove, I could even go with a wheelgun, much as I love me my 1911s, as any fule kno.)
Hell, I’ve even tossed out the kitchen knife block in favor of just two or three basic knives hanging on the magnetic strip on the side of the fridge. (I haven’t reached this stage with my other knives, however: I’m sentimentally attached to pretty much all of them for one reason or another, but I don’t know if I’m ever going to buy another one.)
It’s an interesting thing, this change that is coming over me: the desire to cut back, to simplify, to accept less in favor of plenty.
Anyone else out there feeling this way?
*Loyal Readers may recall that I had to hock all of them a while back, but I am pleased to report that the status quo has since been restored.
