So much of what we have will outlast us. Will it leave the kind of impression that we desire? Will it represent the kind of connection that is worthy of the use of things?
For instance, our bikes could easily outlast us. Are they worth leaving? Will they give our kids (or friends) a sense of who we were? Of, if they choose to connect and follow the dots from you to them, who they might be?
Can a cookie-cutter pop-can robot-made epoxy bike do this?
MAYBE some can. Sense, feel, style…humanity…peeps out thru some of those critters.
But what if your dad left you his green 25.5″ Carlton Raleigh Super Course that he’d had and maintained for 30 years, with rich green pinstriping, but lots of dings and scratches—would it leave a different impression or sense of connection than a robot-made carbon-fiber bike would?
My grampa left behind some crappy levelwind reel fish-rods. I think they made a better (if useless) impression than some new shrinkwrapped Shimano rod would.
My grampa also left a cheap set of golf clubs with leatherwrapped handles in a tartan-plaid-canvas-leather bag. I’ve hardly ever used them, but when I golf they’re what I use.
Think of the lowly cooler. We have a couple big plastic ones. We’ve had them for decades already. They’ll outlast us. Consider instead a big ole enameled metal cooler. I’d rather leave something like that.
I’ve had 2 cordura duffles for 20 years now. They’re still going strong. An orange and a purple hockey bag. I moved to and from Colorado with just those 2. I’ve also had a high-quality red cordura knapsack for decades now—it’s a good one, I’m happy that it’s lasted so long, but still… They’re all missing something in terms of what one would want to leave behind.
Something’s off about so much of my stuff.
But not my woodstrip racing seakayak built by a friend and cast off to me. Ugly thing. Gorgeous in its own way. It’s already been passed along once. It looks worthy. (Just barely!)
What about guns and bows? Is it worth leaving anyone a plastic-stock stainless barrel gun? Ugh. What about a metal’n’plastic pulley bow? What about a black plastic tactical-style knife? Compare: a Savage Model 99 lever-gun with wood stock and octagonal barrel—a selfwood osage (or yew) longbow, snaky—a knife made from a file with the horn handle from a deer that lived nearby.
What about cars—what if someone left you a Citroen DS? I’d think you’d feel like Harold & Maude, kind of: a special relation to the dead. Compare to a, what, a Civic?
Leather boots and Woolrich shirts. Compare to Goretex and new-type Nike speed-hiker molded boots. Or to cotton and lycra stuff. If you buy and wear a wool bike jersey there’s a fair chance it can be handed down or simply that someone from the next generation would at least be able to enjoy it, if they wanted to. Lycra jerseys seem to go sour after awhile. When my grampa died I got some of his shirts—but the flannel ones didn’t last long. I’m still wearing a wool shirt my mom sewed for my dad when they were newly married (they’re both still around, thankfully) but just the 50’s period of it alone serves as a tie to my grampa’s era.
I note that a good hat can last a long time.
How about a new jiffy paperback compared to an acidfree paperback from the 80’s—much less a wellmade hardcover book (probably from before the 80’s). Newer paperbacks and hardcovers alike often seem that if they got wet, they’d turn to toiletpaper-like mush, with brittle boards and bindings. Read em a few times, they crack. Who would want to leave those to anyone?
