The Harness

(Please click on the title for a reading aloud by the author.)

Long time friend G is from Israel. I’m not sure if it’s the language or his nature which when he speaks it gives Hebrew its wonderfully expressive nature. But while I am clueless what he’s saying there’s no question what he’s feeling. Down on his hands and knees in the cramped, hot, and spider infested corner of the garage he uttered something and it was not good. I was holding the flashlight and otherwise helping him figure out why there was almost no water pressure at his house. We were studying the jumble of pipes and valves and tanks and things.

“What was that?” I asked.

G looked up at me. Beads of sweat rolled off his forehead. He managed a wan smile and said, “the more things you have, the more worries you have.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” I said. We eventually figured out the bladder in the pressure tank had a hole in it. Time for a new one – the whole tank, not just the bladder.

Last weekend R and I were sitting at the table having coffee. The classified section of the newspaper from a couple days before sat there, open to the yard sales with a number of ads circled in pencil. R loves to go to yard sales and has a knack for finding very cool things for next to no money. The day before she’d found me a tart pan and yoga mat for less than a dollar. I noticed an ad for a “Man Cave” sale and one of the first items listed was a BMW R69US motorcycle.

“Wow. Sorry I missed that.” I said. R looked at me, knowing I’m generally not interested in yard sales, maybe hoping something like this would get me hooked. I told her about the bike. It is a very desirable model from the 1950’s, an iconic design and in my dream world I’d love to have one. “But…” I quickly added, “I have no desire to own one.” I once slipped into having three motorcycles and found the time and money spent maintaining the fleet could have been devoted to riding. So one summer I sold two of them. Now, with only one motorcycle, my resources go into riding it, and riding it is definitely the beauty of having it.

People with great wealth and all the trappings often talk about “simplifying,” rarely do it, and far as I can tell are typically less happy than those with much less. “Trappings” stems from late Middle English “trap” meaning an ornamental horse harness. Perhaps it is a glass half empty thing, and we are motivated by a fear of not having enough; in which case if it’s nice to have an extra, then it’s nicer to have two extra and before we know it we find ourselves with lots and lots of extras. Our possessions begin to possess us; harness indeed.

Gordon Bunker