Life is not about accumulating stuff

Years ago, at a bar somewhere in West Texas, a California friend and I got into an argument.

It was about a bumper sticker.

He thought it was clever. I thought it was stupid.

What did it say? “The one who dies with the most toys wins.”

The buddy was a guy named Tom, who was at that time a photographer for The Los Angeles Times. The West Texas stop was somewhere along the route of the Great American Race.

And the gulf between the two of us was enormous. It was only by consciously deciding to set it aside that we were able to keep our great friendship intact.

We could still be friends, even though we saw the world from distinctly different perspectives.

Tom was a car guy, and I respect that. I even admire that. He had a 1955 Chevy. He’d owned more than one motorcycle, and he’d been in an accident that cost a girlfriend a leg.

We shared a love of nature and of photography, both of which Tom approached with an eye and a vision that I can only envy. He could see that miraculous moment when a bear scooped a fish out of a stream or an eagle snagged a rodent and he could deliver it in perfect focus and all action stopped, with incredible depth of field.

His skill was humbling.

But he was — and I suspect still is — a child of California.

He was living — as Madonna used to sing — in the material world, and he was a material guy.

But that was more than 30 years ago. And I wonder if that has changed.

After all, once we move up into the upper reaches of the calendar, it’s not so much about the accumulation of “toys” as it is getting rid of all the “stuff” we’ve saddled ourselves with over the years.

Anyone over the age of — say — 60 has begun to wonder: What am I doing with all this junk?

It’s not junk, of course. Most of it has a direct connection to the most intimate moments of our lives. But, by golly, there sure is a heck of a lot of it.

Take a moment to do your own inventory.

•Photo albums? More than you’d need to bore any potential suitor for your granddaughter’s hand.

•Pictures on the wall? At our house, the pictures outnumber the wall space.

•Coats in the closet? How many can you actually wear at one time? Or even during one season?

And on and on.

•Record albums? Yep, way too many.

•CDs? Ditto.

•DVDs? You got it.

•VHS tapes you’ll never watch again? I’d rather not think about it.

•Spare sets of china inherited from various relatives that your children have no interest in inheriting? (Please don’t mention to my wife that I included this on the list.)

Fact is, most Americans have way too much doggoned stuff.

Why else would storage facilities be a booming business?

I’m still convinced that my California buddy had it wrong. 

The “toys” don’t matter. 

What matters is making a difference in the world. What matters is the relationships we build and maintain through good times and bad. What matters is leaving the place a little better than we found it.

Ultimately, it’s not about who has the most. 

But I’d concede to my old buddy Tom that it can also be about having fun. 

And if that ’55 Chevy still gives him pleasure, that’s fine with me.

It certainly doesn’t need a bumper sticker.