MULTIPLES

It’s a “first world” problem. We cleaned out our garage this last weekend. We had a saw. No. We had two. Oops. Here’s another. We had six saws. How does this happen? How many saws do you need? Yes some were different — smaller, curvier, toothier — but some were exactly the same. Hammers, same. Too many of the same thing, and we wonder why the garage is full.

Here’s the deal. Stuff is buried in the garage, closets, drawers, attic. But you need one, can’t find the darned thing (because it’s buried) so you buy another. And then that one is piled upon. And you can’t find the first or the second. You buy another.

I would like to live in a world where we had one of everything. Where life moved at a pace where if you could not find something, you would continue to look because you had the time to look. And look some more… because there are not a lot of places to look, for one. And there is not a lot of stuff for another.

But wait. The other side is… you don’t have the money to buy another one. Hmmm. Third world problem. I’m not disparaging. Not bragging. Not rubbing anyone’s nose in poverty. No. I’m making a case for simplicity. Clarity. Serenity. Sustainability. I’m probably also threatening the world economy. How could we survive if all women had only one or two pair of shoes? Two outfits? One coat? Some people live that way, and their countries are usually poor.

I’m whining and I should stop. But I still hate multiples. Dang. How many do we need? When is enough enough?