Old things, and the people behind them
Yesterday, David’s post detailing the oldest items he owns came through the RSS doorway. David was inspired to do this by a similar post from Thomas. The thought crossed my mind that I might do the same. But that thought was followed rather quickly by the thought that I’m more than a little uncomfortable by how much I own and my how much my sense of myself is informed by the items that I own. And that thought was followed just as quickly by the thought about a certain president’s ruminations about how it’s important to his psychological well-being that my country gain ownership of Greenland. (I know that said president has since apparently moved on from this position, at least for the moment. Stay tuned.)
So many thoughts, cascading along. Still, what is it about ownership? I happened to see an interview of a Greenlander who said that land ownership isn’t a thing in Greenland. Those who buy a house, she said, don’t own the land beneath the house. I actually wondered whether that’s true – but it appears that it is.
There is no privately-owned land in Kalaallit Nunaat. In the traditional nomadic existence, Inuit (across the Arctic) followed the migration routes of game animals, which made it difficult and impractical to divide hunting areas into smaller privately demarcated areas. Hence, the basic principle was that the land was collectively owned, and use was subject to general territorial rights.
(See also this from realtor.com.)
That’s quite different from our tradition, which is informed by John Locke’s picking an apple off of a wild apple tree and the enclosure of previously commonly held land in England. In fact, even the word property has its root in a term meaning “nature, quality, distinctive character always present in an individual or class,” and only later came to refer to items. When Locke pulled that apple off the tree, it became a part of him — even before he ate it (if in fact he did). So I suppose it’s not all that surprising that my sense of self is informed by the things that I own.
My first car, a hand-me-down from my parents in my last year of college, was a Volkswagen Beetle. I remember deciding then that I would never own more things than I could fit in that car. My commitment to that lasted only until I managed to buy my first component stereo system. Freed from that restriction, and being the good American that I am, I continued to acquire. I’m working really hard now to purchase less, to purchase only items that I need, and to purchase items that will last and are fairly made. I’d rather not think about all of the acquisition and waste in my wake.
But — and finally returning to where I started — I did enjoy thinking about the oldest things that I own. My enjoyment is not so much of the items themselves as it is of the family connections they embody. So here’s the list:
- A rocking chair that I inherited from my maternal grandparents. They were both deeply committed Democrats. In the early 1960s, my grandmother was so inspired by Kennedy and impressed by his rocking chair that she decided that she must have a Kennedy-inspired rocker for her back. That chair now sits in our living room.
- A German wall clock that I received from my parents in the mid-1970s. I don’t know how old it is. When they lived in Germany in the early 1970s, my parents developed the practice of looking for old clocks in all sorts of places. Family lore has them looking through old barns and shacks. The clocks were inexpensive, and not in great condition. Most of them didn’t work. My parents developed a relationship with a man who repaired and restored old clocks. The clock hanging on our wall is one of those clocks. I wind it once a week.
- A silver dollar that my father began carrying in his pocket in World War II. At least, he told me that it was once a silver dollar. It’s now completely smooth on both sides. It was in his pocket for a long time. I received it after he died. (Primogeniture in action.)
- An old misshapen metal measuring cup. I use it each day to weigh out the beans for our morning coffee. It’s one of several kitchen implements that my maternal grandmother gave me when I moved into my first apartment in 1974. She purchased them from the S&H Green Stamps store in their small west Texas town. I’m amazed to see that S&H Greenstamps are still a thing!
These are just a few of the things that I’ve owned for a long time. (I’ve already said more than enough in this blog about the books, so I won’t go there.) I found, going through this exercise of remembering, that it’s the people behind these things rather than the things themselves that are so crucial to the person I am today.
David and Thomas — thanks for the memories.
An edit: Andreas provides his list, and adds pictures as well. Oh, for the days of inexpensive vinyl!
