I sometimes feel different. That is, alien, not of this world. You see, I have had hardly any obsessions in my life. I discount a few times, of course, that might be seen as obsessive behavior... surfing when I was 18 and 19, golf the first time around, a fascination with photography that lasted almost a year... but these were minor and could be easily set aside. I am talking about real obsessions.
You know the people. They build things like the Watts Towers in Los Angeles or have an entire monastery moved, stone by stone, from Spain to Dade County, Florida . They collect figurines of some animal or other objects and place them all over their entire house. I won't get into Hearst Castle
These are the extremes, however. Most collectors are less obsessive but they are just as real. My mother had this tiny obsession with rabbits. Not live ones, fortunately, but figurines. So we had these tiny glass and ceramic rabbits here and there and everywhere while I was growing up. My father tolerated this. He wasn't obsessed with things. No, he was much more stable. Until I found he owned 7 power drills, 5 hand augers, and almost every hand tool imaginable. At least they weren't on the shelves sharing space with the rabbits. Just collecting dust in his work shop and on his "office" shelves.
When I was dating (oh, so many years ago), I would escort a young lady home to her apartment and she would show me around. Invariably, there would be stuffed animals galore, or little pillows everywhere, or a constant color in the decor, or some other evidence of obsession. More than a few of these young women seemed to collect lovers as well, though few kept more than one at a time. I suppose men are guilty of this also or there would be no little black book industry.
I am different. I have never had a collection of anything. As a surfer, I only had one surfboard at a time. I did not surf every single day. I will only admit to having a few surf posters in my bedroom and being modestly proud of my mahogany tan. When I got into golf, I never owned more than two sets of golf clubs (now I have three which makes me nervous) at a time. I do not have golf trophies and posters and such all over the house... as some I know do. During my photographer phase, I only put up about 4 of my photographs on my wall.
I never have been able to rattle off sports trivia, baseball stats, the history of the Super Bowl, music entertains me but does not drag me around the country to see the concerts of some band. I never owned more than two fishing rods and reels at a time. I do not have a collection of guns (which may put my neighbors at ease). I never got hooked on the X-Files. Though I will admit to watching all the Star Trek series.
What makes us do this? Like crows, we tend to gather shiny objects. And, unlike the crow, we want to share that obsession with others.
And why don't I have that trait? Or does blogging count?
A Night Unremembered
6 years ago