I remember when Ronald was displayed on the McDonald’s signs. It was cool. Then they added indoor playgrounds for kids, and that was cool too. But then flat-screen TVs started to line the inside walls, and each played a different channel for the maximum of media overload.
I get that we’re in the age of technology. I love WiFi, my iPhone and my AirPods. But I would like to enjoy a Big Mac without being reminded of every news item and sporting event. It would be nice to munch on my french fries without interruption from the Kardashians, Hugh Hefner’s latest roommates or Brangelina. Let me slurp my frosty chocolate shake without CNN, MSNBC or Fox. If it doesn’t stop I’ll be forced to give up McDonald’s and eat at home. The horror.
Is this all I have to show?
I have downsized my possessions to the extent that they now fit neatly in 15 Rubbermaid boxes.
For those who don’t know me personally, the events of September 11, 2001 combined with the Enron debacle and the loss of friends who died prematurely were the drivers for a radical life change. We purposed to reduce our possessions, our debt and our income in order to increase our free time, mobility and spontaneity. It didn’t come easy and some of the decisions were downright painful. I know there are those who think having only 15 Rubbermaid boxes of stuff, a dozen or so paintings and a large, red toolbox sends a certain message, as if that’s all we have to show for our careers and 25 years of marriage. Here’s my response to that line of thinking:
- If I wouldn’t have left my 20-year employer I would never have known that I had talent for anything more than working in a cubicle 40+ hours per week.
- If we wouldn’t have sold the house and lived with friends for a few months we never would have known how good of friends they were, and are.
- If we wouldn’t have lived on a boat and spent 24/7 together in a small space we never would have known that our marriage could survive whether we spend all our time together or little time together.
I highly recommend getting rid of the clutter, whether it’s taking up space in the closet or in your life. Paring down to 15 boxes takes commitment and courage. But now that I’m there I might cut that in half, and maybe half again.
Don’t hire an exterminator; start a new business
While waiting for a flight at the Fort Lauderdale airport in December I observed an older couple sitting across from me. They were repacking several boxes of candy in carry-ons and neither wanted the box of Hot Tamales. Being a helpful person whose favorite candy happens to be Hot Tamales, I offered to buy the box from them. He handed it to me with a smile and said, “Merry Christmas! Enjoy the candy.” We struck up a typical airport conversation– where we live in south Florida, who we were going to visit–which evolved into the new business venture he started after retiring, making and selling candy and snacks. He dug in his bag and pulled out a red sucker wrapped in cellophane and handed it to me. Though my mother’s warning about not accepting candy from strangers was ringing in my ears, I thanked him and stowed the candy in my bag. His wife offered that I might be interested in one of his newest snack treats, flavored worms. As is typical in airports, loud announcements were being made over the intercom so I thought I had heard incorrectly and I asked her to repeat what she said.
“Worms, you know the kind that are in the ground” she said. I thought they were pulling my leg until he retrieved two small boxes from his bag.
“Did you know that a majority of people on this planet eat bugs or worms as a significant part of their diet?” One box contained little worm snacks flavored with mexican spice and the other, bacon & cheese flavored crickets. I handed them back but he refused. “Merry Christmas again! Enjoy with your family and friends. They’re great sprinkled on a salad instead of croutons.”
I still haven’t summed up the courage to try them and doubt I ever will. But if we invite you over for dinner, don’t ask what the crunchy topping on the hotdish is.
