We are all creatures of habit. Some of these are good, some bad, some really do not matter, and are controlled by situations.
Let’s take the humble tee shirt.
What we wear usually, even sublimely, makes some sort of statement. Your favorite team. Your taste in motos. Something Wisenheimer, perhaps.
There was a time when I thought I would just wear plain Hanes tees – heather or black. But, was that not me making a statement about not wanting to make a statement?
The shelves of my closet are packed with dozens of tee shirts.
I try to keep them in some sort of order. Motorcycle/track, Rock & Roll, a bunch of Marvel /Star Trek and other tees from the World of Geekdom. What once was our grandfather's 'under shirts' morphed into logos and statements in the mid-60s. Tees never looked back.
At one point Shira commented that if I buy another tee, I should get rid of one at the same time; and avoid a closet Koyaanisqatsi.
Inevitably… like the next fun thing I was watching, or participating in, I would feel the need to buy the shirt. You could never prove you’d been there without the shirt.
This led to a culling and forced relocation of some shirts and boxes tucked away through Backroads Central like some Camp Re-Fu-Gees for tees that I was unable to relinquish, even though tee shirts are easy, and are a bit like henna tattoos – semi-permanent reminders of a temporary feelings.
Further back in our home, the Zero-Sum Game was added to something a bit more substantial and expensive. Guitars.
Although I feel I have gone from simply owning some guitars to being an actual player – my collection far exceeds the worth of my talent; and where she had simply suggested the ZSG with tee shirts, she kinda stomped her little foot down after a replica ‘59 Sunburst Les Paul was discovered in the music room.
In the jungle, it is rare that one creature that is twice the size and twice as aggressive as the former still fears tangling with the latter, and though I am sure I said ‘I do’, everyone else seems to have heard ‘Yes, dear – I won’t.’
Then there is the Big Kahuna of collections in our home.
The motorcycles. I am not a model, nor a member of a band or have a record contract – but I do ride for a living. So motorcycles are required.
There was a time that we seemed to be acquiring motorcycles at an alarming rate. Sport bikes, ADV machines, standards.
With my tee shirts, I could box and stash some away – only to be rediscovered and cherished years down the road. The guitars? A bit more difficult, as space is at a premium - although her Yamaha piano surely takes up the space of the half dozen more guitars I shoulda, woulda, coulda bought if I had talent… and money (there is that). (YOU bought the keyboard, not me – SBK)
Surprisingly Shira has said many times, “No more guitars, buy a bike instead.” This has been heard, confirmed, and sworn on a stack of Bibles by some of my friends who would love to see me buy more motorcycles that they could borrow.
Yet, with the bikes, I have self-imposed the Zero-Sum Game.
Right now, there are just the right number of machines in the stable. Although I could manage three more if I really tried, that would limit navigable walking room in the barn; and thus the ease of getting to the Backroads Hot Wheel International Speedway… at $1.25, Hot Wheels are never, ever, part of a Zero-Sum Game.
Are there machines out there that I feel I could enjoy? Sure. But there are none right now that I am lusting after. We both have work bikes – a BMW R 1250 GS, and the Suzuki V-Strom 650 XT – we both have standards (well her, more than me), and everybody in the world has a KLR, right? But there is nothing out there that floats my boat – although we have talked about a Honda Grom, simply to turn into a mini-me version of Nicky Hayden’s Repsol Honda MotoGP machine – but that might simply be a wallet-burner.
Nope, right now I think I will quietly play the ZPM.
Maybe if that Strat was somehow moved to the guest bedroom, that would open up space for that Paul Reed Smith Baritone? Maybe.
Maybe I’ll just buy a PRS tee instead. Sigh.