Figuring Out What Belongs in the Dumpster

Figuring Out What Belongs In the Dumpster

By Jeffrey M. Bowen

Once in awhile we rent a one-ton dumpster and clear out our accumulating material possessions.  We don’t think of this as unloading junk because most of it is still in good condition, having been well cared for and maintained in its previous life.  There just isn’t enough room for it any longer.  When culling the stuff, we frequently benchmark our decisions by asking, “Would our grown kids or grandchildren want it?”  However, a knot in our decisions, if not our throats, appears when we think about whether our kids would look at something we decided to keep and exclaim, “Are you serious?” or “What the heck did they want or ever use this for?” and promptly throw it out – all this as they clean the house just before or after we pass on.

Something sorrowful stalks us when the dumpster lands in our yard for a week, despite the fact that my wife actually experiences intense pleasure from methodically clearing the decks, regardless of whether what falls overboard is technically hers or mine.  She thrives on orderliness.  Everything has its place.  I agree especially when I cannot locate something and fixate on finding it.  But when it comes to mass disposal, it pains me to realize what I paid for so thoughtfully and with such financial commitment just a few years ago is now essentially worthless except to me.

Studies show people routinely overestimate the value of what they already own and are surprisingly reluctant to part with it.  Think about those reality TV shows where crusty geezers refuse to sell rusty car parts they have stored in musty sheds decades.  The same studies show people underestimate the value of other’s possessions.  After all the effort of putting price tags on items, two different worlds of value collide amidst bargaining at flea markets and yard sales.  Charities have to be choosy too, given space constraints and client needs, so instead of selling or donating, the easiest route might be the dumpster.  Ah, but it’s not.

Take, for example, my substantial collection of suits and ties.  New ones were always a shopping reward especially if they were a bargain.  I could never wear them out, so after I retired, they just hung there like a museum display. To make matters worse, as I reluctantly gained girth and lost height, these nearly new suits no longer fit.  After years of debate, I donated all of them to the Salvation Army.  But I kept the ties as a collection of nearly one thousand memories.  Periodically I visit the closet to admire my own good taste.      

The saddest part of “dumpstering” is my having to say goodbye to such a full-blown, rich collection of memories all at once.  Each object evokes a certain memory or association, a time and place one can no longer recapture except when looking at or actually using some object now due to sit in a dumpster out in the rain and in the dark.   From time to time, this painful image prompts me to regard estate auctioneers as carrion eaters.

I suppose we have to remind ourselves that material possessions of any kind have no intrinsic value other than what we credit to them.  If we all agreed gold and diamonds are utterly worthless, so they would become. Yet for those who remember the look in their loved one’s eyes when gifted with gold pendants or diamond rings, the memory is cherished.  Infused with such lasting symbolic value, our gifts literally turn into valuables.  

What is the bottom line for the dumpster squatting in the yard or driveway?  I guess it is that finding, keeping, losing and even weeping about value is a hefty part of life.  Whether we are incorrigible hoarders or dedicated purgers, the truth is we spend much of our lives sorting through values and figuring out what is worth keeping and what really belongs in the dumpster.  Just as a reminder, don’t leave your best values in storage until a dumpster arrives.  The best way to preserve and renew them is to use them!