Wednesday, March 10, 2010

one safe couch.

i really despise and adore estate sales. i guess its rather a love and hate relationship, i never really buy anything but just to be able to walk through someones house is almost like being able to read their journals or something. you can see what is in important to them, the pictures, the books, the organization, or lack there of.

estate sales are basically a garage sale of, well everything. you can walk through a persons house who has probably died, which explains the reason why i hate them so much. its just creepy, i mean less than a month ago this piece of art was probably someones prized possession but now its for sale, tomorrow if its not sold it will probably have a big red slash through the ticket on discount, and if its still not sold it will most likely be in the dumpster or goodwill by the end of the week. someone LOVED that piece of art!

at an estate sale a few days ago i walked through someones treasures and sifted through memories and prized moments buried in fifty cent picture frames and dollar tea sets. while i was there the thought hit me how disparaging it is to think that someone will one day do the same to me and my possessions. future grandkids will look through my records take what they want, sell what they don't. my future children will have no idea what that bible meant to me, and that i literally took it around the world. those notes on the side of the pages in that book were pure catharsis to me, but to someone else it will mean that the book will be worth less because of the writing in the margins. into the 25 cent box it goes.

here is what i am getting at... while entering this estate sale i walked in the front door and saw a couch that had a cover on it, like most people enjoy to do to prolong the life of the couch. out of curiosity i asked if i could take the stiff milky cover off the couch to see what it looked like. as i suspected the couch was perfect, not a tear or stain on the couch whatsoever. sure it was not my style, and looked like it was bought new in the 70's, but it was in perfect dark maroon flowery condition.

the thing is that the person who bought this couch loved it, when they saw this in the store it was their 'ideal' and would match _______ perfectly. they took special care to bring it home and sat on it and smiled. then they went to the store and found the thickest stiffest ugly creamy clear plastic cover to ensure that their amazing couch would not be hurt.

WHAT IS THE POINT OF THE COUCH??? if your just going to put a giant shrink wrap on it why don't you just get a few cinder blocks and some boards and put a sheet on it? years later this person is dead and the couch is in perfect condition selling for '25$ or best offer'. years of sitting on an uncomfortable couch, hiding the style, color, and texture of the couch and for what? so that someone has a good deal on a well kept piece of furniture well after your gone?

how many of us do this every day of our lives? we hide who we are or what we are made of under layers and layers of walls and coordinated trust issues. we preserve ourselves for some future nostalgia when in all reality this is going to lead us to being old with tons of regrets. why not venture out of our shell? why not befriend and entrust those around us? why not allow who we are to peer out of the safe?

if we continue to put up a thick plastic shield between us and the world around us then we will end up like the couch, a perfect track record of uselessness. an uncomfortable life with only our deflective shields to comfort us. no one can afford to be safe anymore.