I’ve spent the last few weeks working on a construction project with my dad. At one point during a pause in the work, I realized I was using a tool that was part of a set he gave me as a birthday gift about 40 years ago. When I pointed that out, Dad made a joke along the lines of, “Of course you still have it,” and our work carried on.
That moment got me thinking about those tools and the toolbox they came in, which are all still part of my workshop, and I started checking off all the other long-lived stuff around my house. Not antiques or artwork, but the stuff of everyday life that still gets used every day.
A pair of loafers I’ve had since the early ’80s.
A Zippo lighter my grandfather was given as a corporate gift in the era when people still smoked at their desks.
A Seiko wristwatch that belonged to my father-in-law and now makes sure I’m where I need to be, on time (most of the time).
A refurbished stainless steel Art Deco masterpiece of an espresso machine that’s enjoying a new life after serving one of my aunts for years.
As I went down the list, I was reminded of a 2017 New York Times story: “Aging parents with lots of stuff, and children who don’t want it” by Tom Verde. The examples in Verde’s story were mainly things like wedding china, furniture and assorted tchotchkes, and I remember thinking those parents probably didn’t really want their stuff either.
Which brings us to Marie Kondo’s The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, a book I haven’t read but I like to make jokes about. One of Kondo’s basic tenets of tidying up is getting rid of things that do not spark joy.
If I got rid of everything that doesn’t spark joy, I’d run out of socks and underwear really fast. But I think it’s worth thinking about why we keep the stuff we do.
Does an adjustable wrench I’ve had for four decades spark joy? No. That would be weird. But it does wrench and that’s what counts and that’s why I keep it. Ditto the Zippo, the Seiko, the shoes and the espresso machine.
None were top-of-the-line when they were bought, but they’ve lasted and they’re still up to the job.
And this is where I might come off a bit like Abe Simpson yelling and shaking his fist at the clouds.
It doesn’t seem to be as easy to find everyday things that will last without shelling out a lot of dough.
The people behind ideas like the Repair Café (see story page 16) are helping people appreciate that the life cycle of many consumer products can be extended, and that’s a good thing. But, when it comes to goods that could outlive me by decades and still be useful with only basic care and maintenance, they seem to come only at a hefty premium.
It’s usually worth paying that premium, but I’d like to think that as we take a harder look at our consumption habits in light of a rapidly filling landfill and other issues around recycling our cast-offs, we’re also edging closer to a return of the days when we didn’t have to.
That would spark joy.
