Everything That Matters

“Did you ever replace that SxS (SxS refers to a side-by-side shotgun)?” I asked my buddy.

“No. Prefer over/unders primarily,” he responded.

Then, “SxS are cool, though.”

I knew he preferred over/under shotguns, just as I knew he hadn’t replaced the SxS he had tried some years back, and seemed to be fond of, and shot well. But mechanical issues ensued, and he was never able to get it to work to his satisfaction. But I had to double-check.

A fellow in Fairbanks, an ADN reader who often corresponds regarding these columns, offers thoughts and observations that often provide food for thought. Such was the case recently when I wrote of accumulating things. Being around my age, he wondered what he might do with the equipment he has accumulated, now that he and his dogs have retired from sprint skijoring.

I didn’t have an answer. But the exchange reminded me of some things I had promised myself not long ago.

Certainly, there are places to donate things like that. A venue exists for the disposal of most anything. But, when it comes to things that one has invested their heart and soul in, you don’t really want it to go into a pile where folks can pick through it and maybe use it, maybe not.

Organizations like the Salvation Army may put it to use, and for some things, that’s great. But I, for one, would like some of the things that are dear to me to go to someone I know who will “get it,” who understands the intrinsic value, and who will use it in good faith, carry on the tradition if you will. I don’t want the backpack I hunted so many mountain miles over to become someone’s diaper bag.

Perhaps this has become an old-fashioned sentiment, from the time I remember thinking about how cool it would have been to be able to keep all of the old saddle and tack from my grandparent’s days when horses were a part of life. The world is a much different place than many of us older folks grew up in. Carrying on traditions may even be an unrealistic sentiment today. At times I have trouble sorting it out.

Standing before a home full of things that composed my father’s life, and not knowing how to connect with all who might have wanted to share some of those things frustrated and even angered me. Being responsible for those things, I couldn’t reduce my father’s life to 50 cents at a time in a yard sale.

Last spring, on the wind-blown prairie of North Dakota, I decided that I didn’t want my end game to be like that. Which, given mainstream culture’s awful predisposition to reduce things to possession and never let go, it is not as easy as it sounds. 

by Steve Meyer, Anchorage Daily News |  Read more:

Image: Christine Cunningham

[ed. Not just guns. Anything with personal or family history. The flip side is dealing with accumulated junk. My dad left 70+ years of it for my brothers and I to dispose of - old rusted tools, broken useless sports equipment; old dried paint cans in the hundreds; dead appliances, water damaged furniture, moldy luggage, everything. Old folks, do your kids a favor - cleanout and downsize while you still can. You don't want your legacy to include a lot swearing.]