There isn’t very much I’m serious about. I’m serious about books. I’m serious about… um, not much else. Just about everything needs levity or else it will suck balls. (My 2 yo nephew says “that sucks balls, uncle Bob.”)
With books – don’t break the spine. Don’t fold the pages. Don’t roll it like a newspaper. Don’t let it get wet. Use a fricking bookmark. Don’t turn pages while eating cheetos or wasabi or spaghetti. Don’t stack them horizontally. Don’t leave them in damp places.
Books are SRS BSNS.
Lately I’ve been taking pics of our antiques and hobbies to post to Flickr. Some are going up for sale at Etsy. Mostly, I’m looking at pictures.
…and I’m getting really ill at people! I’m ill that I’m ill about it! Really, things should be used. There’s no point in having a collection of “oooh, pretty” if you’re never going to enjoy them. Smoke your pipes, eat off your dinnerware, put stuff in your cabinetry, wipe your hands on the embroidered towels. By all means, use it now because things exist to improve the human condition.
I’m just seeing that so many people have more money than sense. They get these gorgeous collector’s items that have been loved and cared for. Things that have lasted two and three lifetimes. Then they just FUCK THEM UP! They treat these things like status symbols and take pictures of themselves doing stupid things. They don’t love the thing or the history of the thing or the people who loved these things. They love the attention that owning the thing brings them. Even more, they love having 300 of exactly the same thing and being able to brag about their things when the only thing they want is to feel superior.
So what? Why does it matter to me? I don’t have the money to save these things and honestly, the more of them that are destroyed, the more money my well-cared for things will be worth. Rarity makes value and perceived value is always more relevant than actual value.
What’s important to me is that the thing be loved. If it’s loved, then every blemish makes it more valuable – not to the outside world, but to the family who love that thing and the people who love the people who love that thing.
On my wall, amid late 1800s Austrian china, is a thick and crudely gilded dish. One handle is missing and the broken spot has been worn down because even after it was broken, it was still used. It was my great-grandmother’s and my grandmother tells me that Great-Grandma served the bread for dinner every single night on that dish. She said it never failed that G-Gma would serve either rolls or bread and always on that dish – even long after it was broken. It hangs on my wall amid things with immense value because it has immense value. It has a family and a story and a history.
If you love something, then you take care of it. Right? People – please learn to take care of your things, whatever they may be.
*This post is not about items that are recycled, upcycled or repurposed. It’s about things that when used in their intended way, but in a careless manner, are destroyed.