Luxury of Portability

Dear pocket pooch owners,

There is something to be said for being so portable that you can carry all your life's possessions on a handkerchief tied to a pole set on your shoulder, like in those old cartoons of Tom & Jerry.



In the modern era, there's so much that is put on possessions. I fantasize that in the olden days, people didn't have much stuff so they could literally pack up like the guy in the picture and move on to the next town to work for their daily bread.

But it has become almost impossible to do that comfortably in the latter part of the past century. You have to have identity documents, Social Security number, birth certificate, a mailing address, past references, more than a couple of outfits, etc, etc. Then there are the computers and TVs and other creature comforts to bring along.

But in this century, everything has been downsized to the point that it has become almost practical to live off the clothes on your back and your smartphone in your pocket. I would know: I live out of a suitcase with just my dress clothes for work and my trusty Droid smartphone which has me eternally linked to the outside world.

Most of the furniture I had bought for my apartment in Dallas sits disassembled in various closets at my parents' house. The only recurring bills I have are that of the extended stay hotel I frequent every other week for work and the $50 I give my parents monthly for being on their phone plan. Everything else has been virtually distilled to online access, like email, work stuff, banking, investments, etc. Pretty much the only physical mail I get comes from my alma mater asking me for money. (Sorry school, now that I've crossed the economic chasm, I'm trying to widen it, not close it!)

This past week, I didn't use my laptop once since I didn't have to. The web browser on my phone is capable enough to do pretty much everything I need except play Flash* videos and print documents. And I can even track my fantasy football team! If the next iteration of the iPad is good enough, I may even be able to dispose of my laptop (though it would be hard to touchtype reliably on a non-physical keyboard).

And it is so refreshing to have become so portable since I've always hated to move. My parents and I moved around so much as a kid that I've grown to despise the sight of Uhaul and Ryder trucks. It meant that we'd have to pack and carry all the junk we've accumulated to another place, unpack the junk, accumulate more junk, and rinse & repeat. And it would always be stupid stuff like an old mattress that would give me back problems or a pieces of scrap wood and tubing that Dad thought might be useful in random situations. In our garage right now, there are about 15 motors from old scrap washing machines that my parents thought can be sold eventually, dozens of boxes from old appliances of which some of the appliances are gone, medical textbooks from the 1980s that Dad thinks might still be useful (as if there have been zero advances in the last 30 years), and several pieces of broken lawn equipment among many, many other things worth hardly nothing. I'd estimate that everything sitting in the garage right now would be worth less than $500 altogether. But they refuse to let it go, and they pawn it off on each other: 'It's your mother who wants to keep all the stuff.' 'It's your father. If I throw it away, he'll be mad.'

I think it is because they're packrats that my brother and I became anti-packrats. My brother was first--he boasts he can put everything he really needed in his car and would be good to go in a day or so, and I believe him. And I think I can do the same now. I have realized the error of my ways when I unwittingly and prematurely committed myself to living in Dallas.

It took me 3 trips with my car and once with a friend's pickup truck to move all the stuff I'd accumulated in my 6 months there, and I honestly didn't think there was all that much to bring back. But there was. And it was all very depressing to see the trophies of my independence being raked back to pile up in my parents' house.


The dining/living area during my last week in Dallas. Not usually this messy! Notice empty bottles of Patron and Goose sitting by the fireplace :)

But that's life I suppose. The original title of this post had been, 'Have Gucci and Prada, will travel,' but that's not true. I don't travel with them (watch & wallet, respectively) because I'm afraid I might lose them or attract the wrong attention. Instead, I have my keys, a Slimmy wallet with bare essentials, phone, a Citizen Eco-Drive, and a suitcase with just enough clothes. On longer trips, I bring a laptop, but that's pretty much it.

I go in, do my work, get out, and get paid. Almost like a professional mercenary. And it is so liberating not to be tied down to physical things.

If the job goes south and I lose my job again, no worries. It will take me less than an hour to pack up and go. I'm already torn. (Excuse my penchant for female pop ballads. I promise I'm straight!). And I don't believe in the born-again movement--Innocence once lost can never be reclaimed.

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*seriously, what's this deal with Flash not supported on most smartphones? Is it the phone OS programmers or Adobe that's holding up progress?