Dear Lee,
I’m not a hoarder, a minimalist, a decorator-collector, a or history collector, but just someone who likes unusual old pieces from the past, American Art pottery, dated textiles, and a basement filled with our food packaging treasures. But I just learned I have the newest dangerous habit—“object obsession.”
Beware. It may start when you are young and save comic books, baseball cards, or Nancy Ann Storybook dolls and carefully register, research, and display them. Your friends just tossed everything in a corner or a wastebasket. When you got married, you didn’t shop at Ikea for a matching five-piece bedroom set, but you went to house sales or resale shops or maybe even auctions and collected old items.
Once the house had the essential furniture, the “object obsession” emerged. Blank walls needed pictures. Or perhaps a group of eggbeaters. Or maybe some maps. Small tables and open desks looked better holding a few vases, figurines, or paperweights. And old toys were admired in the children’s rooms. Cabinets with glass shelves provided space in many rooms. Small “anythings” like netsukes, or tea cups, or political buttons, were needed. Larger shelves held silver mint julep cups, Fiesta plates, or bottles, and each new collectible found room on a wall or shelf. Until finally a glass shelf would break from the weight or your son would say, “You don’t have any empty walls!” Of course not! If they were empty, I filled them.
An advanced case of object obsession, or as they would say today, O.O? Don’t worry. If it doesn’t turn into hoarding, it’s good for your health. Shopping means meeting friends and walking miles at shows held on a fairground track. Then coming home to a healthy meal, since you surely bought locally grown corn on the way home. Then early to bed for a good night’s sleep. You even get to show off and brag about your success, your important finds.
That’s what I tell myself when it is freezing or raining or I get lost. Now, seeing my objects all over the house and remembering when and where I bought them brings happy memories. And when asked why I like to collect, my standard answer is, “It beats going to the horse races.” And it does. Gambling on races almost always means losing money; buying antiques usually results in a gain.
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