Balmy air flowed through the vents in my helmet on this glowing, late fall morning, a riding gift that grows more rare as winter edges closer. Soon the riding rituals will become a deliberation of gear and clothing, assessment and decision as the threat of frigid weather sweeps away the simpler joys of riding.
Riding a Vespa is a simple joy, one that I found late in life. Riding has allowed me to explore the notion of a simple life, at least for those moments on the road where little matters save the road unfurling ahead and the decisions and actions required to keep the scooter flying along safely.
I was riding into town to see my friend Gordon when I stopped to make this photograph, listen to the leaves rustle underfoot, watch the light dazzle thought the yellow leaves, and give thanks for just being able to stand there for a few moments.
It’s been that kind of week.
At Saint’s Cafe between sips of hot chocolate and bites of a bagel I read (again) on my iPhone something called the 100 Thing Challenge. A challenge to reduce your worldly possessions to 100. An arbitrary number but the idea is there is some value in untying oneself from weight of things, and more importantly from the desire to acquire more. I understand.
Yesterday brought a new Orvis catalog, another from LL Bean and one from Eddie Bauer. They were destined to join ones from B&H Photo, Aerostich, and a host of others already on my desk. Each offering songs of delight and desire for things that, well, I just don’t need.
So they’re all on their way to the landfill. I told Gordon how nice it would be to think about buying or shopping only when I actually need something.
I’ve been taking some tentative steps towards simplicity — getting rid of things I don’t use, don’t need, can’t remember why I have. And there is a lot of stuff. Don’t know how many things I have but I’m sure I have to be closer to 10,000 than to 100.
One hundred isn’t important. What’s important is slowing removing the extraneous things that collect so easily.
At least that’s the plan.
I showed up without any prints this morning. Gordon had a bunch including several portraits he made of me. I’m always behind the camera so the only time I have my picture taken is when I pass near another photographer. We all understand our predicament. We quickly create mutual admiration societies.
So the chase continues. I need to visit my basement workbench. I think there are 25,000 left over pieces of stuff from 20 years worth of projects. I wish it would all go away.
Great idea, I think we could all stand to simplify our lives a little!
Hmmm, interesting concept. I’ve thought about this many times as it doesn’t feel like it was that long ago when I managed to fit everything I owned into my Honda. I wonder if “tools” would be a single item or does each individual socket and allen wrench count as an item?
Steve, years ago I completely renovated our basement. We got one of those HUGE dumpsters for the debris and such. IT WAS CATHARTIC!!! Stuff that you keep because it’s not clear how to dispose of it (a used water heater, a TV that was once a prized possession until some small part fried, a giant 5’X8′ mirror, a baby carriage, and lots and lots of other stuff). It all fits in the dumpster.
Oh! and I have one other suggestion that you could use to simplify your life and get rid of one print, one envelope, and a few stamps… but never mind, really, I just couldn’t resist the temptation to tease, and the dumpster thing has got you all set.
Warm regards,
David
“On their way to the landfill”!!!
I hope you mean the recycling bin.
As for large items like TV’s and water heaters, take them to Centre County Solid Waste where metals, precious and not, are recovered.
Catalogs, cardboard, all that paper stuff is recycled is recycled too.
For me, the notion of simplicity was forced upon me when I ran out of money and lost my apartment in 2009. Were it not for my high-school friend Paul in Portland I would most likely not be here writing this.
I must admit, it would now be very easy to relocate voluntarily… pretty much everything I now have, I scrounged, got from Craigslist or bought used, and not a thing (well, except the GTS) holds so much sentimental value that I couldn’t hold a moving sale and call some charity to come pick up what’s left.
All the stuff I dragged around for years never really did me any good; I wish I’d realized that a lot sooner, if for no other reason than it would’ve made moving (voluntarily and otherwise) a whole lot easier.
But watching the scene in the movie Gran Torino where Clint Eastwood is telling the kid how he accumulated his tools over a lifetime was like a shank in the ribs. I had to sell my tools because they were too difficult to lug around, and got next to nothing for them.
I am able to exist, though I worry that I will never find full-time employment again, and wonder if the minions of the 1% will destroy Social Security before I’m old enough to collect. But other than that, my life is simple.
I guess my point is, be careful what you wish for.
__Orin
Scootin’ Old Skool
Dump, dedump, dedump.
It is us, ie we want something, we don’t need something.
Have just sold my 14 year old Honda Civic. Had been looking for months for a replacement vehicle, one with enough leg room and yes height for my enormous frame. Bought a half year old Honda Ridgeline truck, as a demo from my local dealer. It is big, however can stand beside it and can see over the roof of the cab without difficulty.
Find I still prefer film so the Nikon D90 with less than 500 activations will be sold, along with the extra lens. Have no point and shoots anymore, sold. To prepare the Civic for sale, emptied the trunk, and the glove box of the car today, three large shopping bags of items to be recycled or discarded or taken to the Value Village. The next bit is to remove the ham radios and related along with cables, and various bits and pieces. The size 8 power cables will be sent to the metal recycling place.
It is said, kindly that one should move every five to six years. It is not my possessions that make me happy rather enjoying those items which add to my happiness. So the two year old 42 inch Sharp TV and Blu-Ray player have been colletced sold.I watch less than two hours a week in front of the boob tube. Can now also cancel my cable TV service.
And so more items leave my possession.
I don’t think it’s the stuff, per se, that makes life complicated.
It seems more a state of mind. I’m sitting in a cluttered office. It’s cozy and comforting. I don’t want a clean and sterile room.
Riding is what reminds me to keep my needs simple. Riding establishes perspective. Can’t take much with me but I find peace of mind.
Having stuff is ok, in my opinion. The trouble comes when we think we NEED things to be happy.
Steve,
I see a lot of the things I have currently as potential. Potential things that could be done or could be used. My dad is one to get ride of every unneeded piece in the house – the opposite of my mother. It’s a strange scene, but it works. I can understand why you need to go through and get rid of crap, fortunately/unfortunately I’ve moved five times in as many years (though some to new places in the same town) each time you gut a house of its possessions, you realize how much you can do without. The things I do keep are motorcycle / computer / kitchen related. Three good hobbies.
Brady
Behind Bars – Motorcycles and Life
I know just what you mean plenty of stuff all over the place……but this is how we live is it not?
Simplicity is found in the garage sat on them 12 inch rims…..
kind regards
len ( scootering adventures )
Dear Steve:
Your style of writing always soothes as it informs… Though sometimes it puzzles too. For example, you wrote that you discovered the joy of riding a VESPA late in life. Late implies that you missed something. That you were tardy in geting to certain things. Look at it this way: some people never get to them at all.
In which case, you arrived at the VESPA in the nick of time.
I recernty had cause to go through 35 years worth of media clippings. I had hundreds of finanacial dailies, business publications, and trade journnals that had all carried quotes from me.
I tossed them all. Personally, I barely gave a shit about the content at the time the headlines were hot… And explored them solely for the money. It was difficult to reach the pont where I had to ackonlwledge that no one else now gave a shit about this stuff either.
You have to be careful when you start asking yourself questions about what you have accumulated… Because keeping it is not always relative to its shelf life.
Fondest regards,
Jack/reep
Twisted Roads
Bouley: Simple living seems more complicated and challenging than I thought. I have a lot of things to let go of…
RichardM: I love the idea of fitting everything I own into a single vehicle (and not a tractor trailer). I’ve been thinking about tools and cameras and negatives. That has to be three things. I’m not ready to go hardcore.
David Masse: I am looking for that same cathartic experience. It will be slow coming but I am headed in the right direction.
And I have your print ready to go. I just need to package and ship.
Poppawheelie: I use landfill loosely to cover every avenue of disposal from Goodwill to the transfer station. So far I have been pretty good about things save for the occasional piece of clothing that I just treat as trash…
Orin: “Careful what you wish for”. Good thought.
Simplicity is a goal but won’t ever be a religion for me. At least I don’t think so. I just would like to not feel weighed down by stuff.
The past two months I have acquired almost nothing other than food. Amazing how much junk a person can buy when not paying attention.
Bryce: You sound farther down the road than I am. Good to know that what’s possible. Most often I see evidence of collection and maintenance of stuff. Part of me wishes I had a bit more respect for things but mostly I seek to get away from it.
Oh well, always something to do…
irondad: I agree completely about the state of mind. There was a time when clutter and mess had almost no effect on me. Something happened though, about the same time that I started feeling uneasy about heights, that I began to notice what all the stuff was doing to me.
Riding made it even more apparent and I felt the freedom of being unencumbered by too much stuff.
It’s a work in progress.
Brady: Maybe I don’t move enough! It’s been 16 years now. A lot of stuff can pile up in that time. Even for my simple hobbies like photography and riding. I did recently ditch a boatload of computer stuff. Probably don’t need a dot matrix printer anymore or a giant box of tractor feed paper….
len: Do we have to live that way though?
Mr. Riepe: Maybe you’re right in that I came to riding when it was time to get to it. No regrets. No gazing backwards and what could have been. And generally I don’t think much about the past. There are a few chances I passed by in the 1970s that I think about from time to time though.
I’ll be careful about asking questions since the answers aren’t always comfortable. And I don’t have a K bike to seek refuge in either.
Cycles (pun): I’ve noticed this in myself and others. Accumulating, then purging comes and goes over a several year span. For a long time my wife and I had 5 motorcycles. Now we’re down to 2, much less to take care of. Now I’m finding it increasingly difficult to resist buying another. This applies to all goods, not just motos. I have a friend who is now trying to get rid of houses, cars, parts, tools, and motorcycles which he collected over one “accumulating” period. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him buying again in a few years.
Talk of simplicity. I don’t think i can simplify all i have up to 100! but if such a case becomes a requirement, my vespa will be part of my simplicity. We have this strong relationship that without it, simplicity or complexity would make no sense to me.