Living Simply with Obsolescence and Excess

July 1, 2008 by Clair Button.

Resume a physical exercise like running after a twelve-year hiatus and it will make you feel old like nothing else, but for me, total immersion in modern American consumer culture comes a close second. Our household isn’t stone-age – obviously we have a computer – but by choice, we have only one television channel, PBS, provided by ancient rabbit-ears antenna. We avoid cell phones, satellite or cable television, media hysteria about “celebrities,” and any loud or flashy form of advertising.

At the moment, I am immersing myself in consumer cultural shock treatment as a by-product of visiting Mom. It took me a while to find a pay phone at the airport that would accept my credit card. The first phone I tried stole my only quarters just to tell me I had to dial a “one” in front of the 800 number phone calling card system I had tried to dial into. The phone card system charged me an extra buck for dialing from a pay phone I had already paid with the credit card.  All this to coordinate a ride with my brother-in-law, who is constantly cranky that I haven’t yet bought a cell phone like him, even if I only fly in to visit twice a year.

Mom is 90 years old now. She lives in a world that starts with the Weather Channel in the morning, followed by “News” that sensationalizes everything from gas prices to celebrities with gas. She is hard of hearing, even with thousand-dollar hearing aids, so the volume is turned up. When the phony news announcer takes a break from advertising whatever product or person they pretend is news, the volume jumps up several decibels on a stream of commercials. It’s hard to have a conversation, let alone think and write without distraction. Mom can crochet through anything.

She has discovered Andy Griffith and the Beverly Hillbillies reruns, all new to her now, and I join her to rediscover my childhood, but the commercials drive me away. When she asks me about some cereal they advertise, I remember warnings about advertising aimed at children. In some ways, we are all children, but my definition of maturity is the ability to discern and resist impulsive, self-destructive behavior. Everything out there in the world of media is geared to turn us into immature, irresponsible consumers.

When Mom lost much of her mobility, we had to help her go through her closets and get rid of things she no longer needed, just so she would have room to maneuver her walker without tripping. It was a sad experience, but a learning experience nonetheless. Many things, barely used or even new, still in the packing boxes, went to Salvation Army. They were the excesses of a shut-in bombarded by catalog opportunities. My sister asked me to help with this chore because Mom would listen to me better than her.  When we got home that time, Kata started a campaign to force every catalog purveyor to quit sending them to us.

It is a learning experience my sister and brother-in-law have yet to take to heart. My sister has never completed the chore of helping Mom sort through volumes of clothes she either can’t or will never again wear.

I can’t say that I enjoy all aspects of staying with Mom. It is at my sister’s house, in order to give them a break from taking care of Mom. When something is needed, I search through cluttered cupboards and closets, sometimes finding everything but what we need, and sometimes finding several different bags full of the very thing you only need once in ten years. Sometimes, the simple choice is to go buy a new whatever. It is obviously the choice some of my relatives have made in their lives many times.

Mom and I went to the store this morning to find a few items she needed. At two different stores, among rows of thousands of hair care products, we couldn’t find a simple hair net or hair curlers small enough for her short, thinning hair. Nor could we find the shampoos or hair care lotions she was accustomed to using. She was a victim of obsolescence and an excess of choice.

Boy, can I see that coming in my own life. There is no place to go to live simply anymore.

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