Some people are collectors and some aren’t. I’ve always been in the former camp since I first had any spending money at all. At one time or another, I’ve collected comic books, records, 3-D stuff, unusual musical instruments, Nero Wolfe mysteries, flipbooks, PEZ dispensers, magazines, movies, diaries, and other things I can’t think of right now. Whatever my current interest was, I devoted much time and money to pursuing that just-one-more-thing which would be the crown jewel of my collection. There were good things about collecting: I was easy to shop for; if you collect anything with the Marx Brothers on it, your mom will always find something. And on vacations, my collecting urge filled the free time I could have spent on culture, dining and sight-seeing. There were stores and flea markets and antique shops.
A couple of years ago, I realized that my collecting bug was largely in remission. There are two reasons I can think of. First, the Internet has sorta ruined collecting for me. Why travel to another city and dig through dusty boxes when you can find your particular holy grail on eBay? Any book I’ve ever wanted to find is just a couple of clicks away.
The second reason only came to me recently. I realized that my loss of interest in acquiring stuff coincided with a casual prayer I made. I asked God to help me love people more. Just to be funny, He answered that prayer. I can’t say that I have completely lost my desire for collecting things…or that I have achieved perfect love for all humanity. But there’s been a definite change. I’m not saying that anyone who collects is antisocial or doesn’t care about others. I only know that suddenly people became more interesting than things I could put on a shelf or in a scrapbook. Now I collect stories, experiences, memories and encounters with other folks. Such collectibles don’t take up much room, don’t need to be dusted, and can’t be sold on eBay.
But they’re priceless.
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