An important topic regarding ownership of property is commitment. If you buy a fancy car, are you committed to the maintenance time and costs associated with it? Houses require upkeep. So, too, do the objects within anyone’s abode. I once wanted a massive collection of CDs, perhaps out of some excess curiosity, and now as I organize dozens of boxed CDs, I ask the contents: would I budget the time to see your band live?
This was a tricky question at first.
I needed to listen to many of the albums “just in case,” only to come to terms with that most-honest truth that, no, I don’t care about this band or this singer or this random collection of songs. When I was in the A-lettered musicians, especially, it was tough. It got easier by the B-letter musicians and by the C-letter musicians, I can glance over the band, album title, maybe look over the CD itself, and clear out a queue of maybe five CDs without even listening to them in the car.
I just think in regards to fan commitment.
While there are exceptions – like Clutch and Sabaton playing on the same night, getting sick before a show like with Pennywise or Tengger Cavalry, or not knowing about the show before it was too late to schedule the time off like Acid Mothers Temple – if I would prefer a quiet evening at home to going to see a band, then usually it’s not worth owning their stuff. If I saw them once live and don’t really consider it an imperative by any regards to seeing them again, their CDs can go.
This applies to dead musicians, too.
If all the variables were stacked against me, I would still figure out a way to see Nirvana live, given the opportunity. This motivation can apply to all other matters as well, it’s just music is the most convenient analogy for me right now.
What’s the point of displaying never-used objects?
I have many unopened videogames, VHS tapes, and action figures. Their boxes look nice, sure, but why not just look at pictures online? That’s why I photograph so much of this stuff before it goes. Since I started writing about de-hoarding, I have yet to experience a donation regret. The dollhouse is kinda sad still but it needed to go. If anything, I feel more regret over all the money I wasted over the years on CDs and other things, but lingering on those feelings will only prevent me from moving forward in life, into a cheaper apartment, or being sufficiently comfortable in my living situation to throw my time into practicing fiction once more.
These essays may seem obvious.
Of course, you should get rid of anything you don’t cherish. Why hold onto junk? When I went for a massive CD collection, I stopped caring about favorites probably once I could buy many cheap CDs with nearly infinite disposable income.
I should bargain off those useless bargain bin items.
|Sources: My personal experiences.|
|Inspirations: By figuring out my attachments to CDs, I can figure out my attachments to other things easier, and downsize quicker. If the goal is being able to move somewhere cheaper, easier, and use the rest of my time to focus on fiction, I’m dedicating the time I need to learn these systems now, and write about them as a way to share my learnings, so that when I’m streamlined, I can focus entirely on my fiction and what will better enable me to tell great stories.|
|Related: Other Downsizing Zeal essays.|
|Photo: A bargain bin CD that, while nice, isn’t really something I would listen to frequently enough in the car or anywhere else to justify owning and I’d probably never care about seeing the musician live unless I were invited along, which would encourage a second-wind of investigation. This CD, too, is also not 100%|
|Written On: July 5th [24 minutes, mobile]|
|Last Edited: July 7th [Besides the gentlest of edits when publishing to WordPress? First draft; final draft for the Internet.]|