While reading chapter one of Lanham’s “Economics of Attention”, I kept thinking about all the “stuff” I own and how much I value it. I couldn’t quite grasp why I felt like I needed those possessions. Is there a reason a single person needs sixty-five pairs of shoes? Why do we, in our house, have more televisions than toilets? I think having “stuff” that matters to you is important, but when your life is run by when you can buy the next big electronic discovery, then the negative aspect of “stuff” rares its ugly head.

This weekend my family and I were cleaning out a spare room in our house, and it was evident how much “stuff” we had accumulated over the years. Some was older than I am. Boxes and boxes of clothes, electronics, and grade school work filled the room wall-to-wall. The task took twice as long as it probably should have because every piece of “stuff” had a story. My mom would talk about her dresses and when and where she wore them and my dad would talk about his old motorcycle jacket and all the places he and his dad went on their motorcycle.

The task itself seems minimal, but the reality of giving or throwing away those pieces of our lives is heartbreaking. But why? If we have those memories and photographs documenting those stories, why do we, as people, feel compelled to hold on to “stuff”. I believe that “stuff” doesn’t have such a hold on us because of what it is, but what it stands for and the memory that is behind that piece of “stuff”.