The Stuff of Downsizing

Do you think you own a lot of stuff? Not so fast. Maybe your stuff actually owns you. A few years ago, George Carlin did a bit about “stuff,” drawing on the common misperception that wecontrol the stuff we own when in fact there is so much evidence that stuff actually owns us. We commonly think that stuff is here to serve us, to make us happy. This is backwards, proffers Carlin. Our stuff infiltrates our homes and expands from that foothold. To paraphrase:

Your house is just a place to keep your stuff … it’s a stuff collection with a roof on it. You keep it all safely locked away while you’re out in the world, doing what? Getting more stuff. What happens when you get too much stuff? You can’t get rid of it. You might need that stuff someday for something that you will have to go out and spend good money on. The only answer when you get too much stuff: Buy a bigger house.

The actual footage is classic. 1 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvgN5gCuLac

The biggest dread for those considering a downsizing project is the stuff removal. Getting rid of stuff is much harder than getting new stuff. You remember the financial sting from when you got the new stuff, and it etched a mark in your archetypical cranium. You are now mentally bound to that particular piece of stuff making it more important to you than many living things, like pets and siblings. This causes false equivalents during downsizing projects, like “I wouldn’t throw out my cat. How can I throw out my high school baseball glove?

This ownership infatuation is particularly befuddling in downsizing situations because the only possesses the owner. Your stuff doesn’t have that same power over other people. All other people see is old, broken stuff. To paraphrase Carlin, one man’s Shinola is another man’s stuff.

Who Wants My Stuff?

Since you are now nibbling on this canapé of cognizance, there’s a good chance you’re getting ready to do a most unnatural act: get rid of stuff. Where will your beloved stuff go? Who will take your stuff, and will it write home once it gets there?

Many start with friends and family. Be ready for rejection though, because they probably won’t be much help. Of the two, friends are more likely to want your stuff. For starters, your immediate family already knows you, and on some level, they think you’re a dunderhead. When you got your stuff in the first place, they thought it was dumb then. You obviously spent too much money on it. Now you’re trying to pawn it off on them, and they can see that little game you’re playing a mile away.

Friends have a bit more hope. They’re not blood relatives, providing a veneer of objectivity, and even better, they are secretly jealous of you, even if they don’t know it themselves. They remember when you first got your stuff. They remember feigning admiration, but that only fed their suppressed envy. When you ask if they would like anything, they will be coy and ostensibly supportive. They may placate you by taking a few items. But when no one is watching they will drag your stuff back to their lair and have their way with it.

If you have grown kids, they won’t want it either. They’ve lived on their own in their own houses and filled them with their own stuff. They can’t countenance the thought of your stinky old stuff squeezing out their newer and improved stuff.

No One Owns a Tuxedo Anymore

You may have more luck with younger family members who are just starting out. They need just about everything. But they are Generation Z, and – as they will patiently explain — they are not carbon copies of Baby Boomers.

One big distinction between Gen Z and Baby Boomers is their enthusiasm for formal entertaining. Boomers aspire to throw candelabra-lit dinner parties with silver settings and fine China. At such bacchanalian events, they lift the crystal, gobble up pheasant, and retire to brandy and a cigars. That was the fantasy. The reality is that the Queen of England never stopped by, so now they have piles of unused crumpet rings and delicate finger dishes to deal with. To the younger generations these party occasions sound as reality-based as a 1930’s Three Stooges rerun. Stately, ponderous, dark wood furniture has no place with them. Mink stoles are beyond cruel, and polishing silver of any kind is simply pointless. China is pretty but no one uses teacups, and if it can’t be cleaned in a dishwasher, it’s not welcome.

Their adjacent generation, the Millennials are also minimalists. The WWII generations were on a mission of manifest destiny to acquire ever more, even Greenland. Now the spoils of all those past purchases are heading for the rapidly growing landscape of self-storage units, which is the last stop before a landfill. Millennials don’t want all that, preferring disposable Scandinavian furniture that was never designed to survive a move.

What to do?

For all these reasons, stuff is never worth what their owners think. To avoid the fate of the landfill, stuff may find a new home if the right buyer comes along, but it will usually amount to pocket money, not anything that will help with rent payments.

There are a lot of bargain-minded individuals looking for the utilitarian value of stuff, but if they see an item that isn’t underpriced, it will be instantly recognized as an outlier in the bargain bin of consumptive folly. Expect them to politely demur.

Your best bet is to reminisce about the good times you and your stuff had, clean it up for its next home, and price it low. Then, give it a final kiss goodbye.

You’ll always have Paris.

About Operation Relo
Operation Relo provides a comprehensive downsizing services for families with elders. Senior support services include preparing older homes for sale; moving & shipping; and redistributing household possessions through cyberselling, estate sales, storage, donations, and disposal. Whatever it takes. Find us at OperationRelo.com, (877) 678 – 7356 (RELO), and [email protected].

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