Clare T. Walker

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Christmas is when you get stuff! Right?

November 30, 2014 by Clare T. Walker

black-friday

I think I’d rather poke myself in the eye than get up early to stand in the cold and the dark outside Target in order to get a great deal on a laptop computer, a Magic Bullet, or [insert name of this year’s must-have item here]. I understand some people leave their Thanksgiving table early to attend an amazing sale at Kohl’s or Best Buy or wherever.

No thanks. A Kitchen-Aid mixer is not worth dying for, and the “crass materialism”[1] of the whole thing is rather offensive.

But sometimes I wonder: what if I’m missing some unbelievable price on something I actually need or a gift on someone’s list? Wouldn’t it be worth giving Black Friday a try?

Seth Godin put my groundless fears to rest in this brief essay the artificiality and hype of Black Friday sales:

Black Friday was a deliberate invention of the National Association of Retailers. It was not only the perfect way to promote stores during a super slow news day, but had the side benefit of creating a new cultural norm.

Any media outlet that talks about Black Friday as an actually important phenomenon is either ignorant or working hard to please their advertisers. Retailers offer very little in the way of actual discounts, they expose human panic and greed, and it’s all sort of ridiculous if not soul-robbing.

Sixteen years ago, my friend Jerry Shereshewsky helped invent ‘cyber Monday’ as a further expansion of the media/shopping complex mania. It was amazingly easy to find people eager to embrace and talk about the idea of developing yet another holiday devoted to buying stuff.

Here are some of the steps involved in creating a marketing phenomena like this:

  1. Find something that people are already interested in doing (in this case, shopping)
  2. Add scarcity, mob dynamics, a bit of fear
  3. Repeat the meme in the media. Press releases, B roll, clever statistics regardless of veracity
  4. Do it on a slow news day, and mix in famous names, famous brands and even some hand-wringing about the plight of workers

Apple does this with its product launches. The IRS does the opposite of #1 around tax day. Nike sold a billion dollars worth of sneakers this way.

People like doing what other people are doing. People don’t like being left out. The media likes both.

Remember Veggie Tales? Their Christmas special lampooned holiday consumerism with a talking toy that intoned,

“Christmas is when you get stuff.”

th-1

Most of us enjoy going out and getting some “stuff” for ourselves and our loved ones at this time of year, but how necessary is it, or wise, to risk death-by-trampling in a Walmart?


[1] “All of us experience firsthand the sad effects of…blind submission to pure consumerism: in the first place, a crass materialism, and at the same time, a radical dissatisfaction, because one quickly learns…that the more one possesses the more one wants, while deeper aspirations remain unsatisfied and perhaps even stifled.” Pope John Paul II, On Social Concern (Sollicitudo Rei Socialis), December 30, 1987, no. 28

Black-Friday even smaller

Filed Under: simplicity Tagged With: Black Friday, Christmas, Christmas shopping, crass materialism, materialism, shopping

simple living in a complicated world

September 1, 2014 by Clare T. Walker

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To live a more simple life, I make conscious, deliberate choices to eliminate excess. My goals: streamlined efficiency, peacefulness, freedom from clutter, chaos, and confusion. Zen-like tranquility and the tinging of little finger cymbals as I levitate from room to room in my house.

In 21st century America? Good luck with that! A so-called “simple life” can come off the rails pretty easily! Flashback to January 2009, the most complicated week ever. Well — maybe not ever, but this one stood out in my mind enough for me to write it down in my journal:

Sunday, our day of rest (ha!) began with driving my 6th-grader to an 8:30 am volleyball practice, returning home to drive my teenagers to church to sing in the choir at 9:30, getting myself ready for church, driving to pick up my 6th-grader from volleyball so she could get ready for church, then going to church with her at 11:30. Somewhere in there the teenagers reappeared, having apparently wheedled a ride home, so at least I didn’t have to go back to church a third time: all those trips back and forth were giving me highway hypnosis, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

Monday I got up at 5:30 am to go to a 6 am exercise class. Came home and got ready for work. Went to work all day until 6. Came home and was preparing to hurry the kids out the door for an evening of errands and dinner on the run when a friend called and begged me to play guitar for a church holy hour service later in the week because the other guitarist couldn’t make it and by the way the rehearsal is tonight and it starts in an hour. Sigh. So much for my errands. The store I had to go to would be closed by the time the rehearsal ended.

I knew I would have to put off my errands until Wednesday because on Tuesdays I also work until 6 and then have a prayer meeting at 7 that is supposed to end at 9 but always goes until 10 or 11. So Tuesday was a wash.

Wednesday I was too tired to get up for the 6 am exercise class, but I did manage to get to work on time, sort of. During my lunch hour, I ran the errand I had planned on doing Monday night: pick up my computer from the repair shop. Then I went back to work for the rest of my shift, returned home, fired up the computer, and discovered two emails of doom, the first telling me that my daughter was supposed to have been serving the 6:15 am Mass this whole week, and the second telling me that an article assignment was due yesterday. Couldn’t work on it right away though, because my daughter had volleyball practice again and my other daughter needed a ride to her friend’s house so she could get a ride from there to the thing she was going to. Aaargh.

The next day — Thursday — I dedicated my lunch hour, in the middle of another shift that ends at 6 pm, to yet more errands. After which I picked up my daughter from basketball practice, and then came home too frazzled to do anything but retire to the couch with a bag of M&Ms and a stack of Star Trek DVDs, even though we were no doubt out of milk or some other essential, and I had a stack of real mail to go through and several screens of new email to process and a car that needed gas and a driveway covered in snow and a bunch of school papers to look at, permission slips to sign and yet another field trip to pay for and a thousand other things on my to-do list hammering away at my psyche.

At the time, I consoled myself with the reminder that this was just a temporary anomaly: my daughter isn’t usually in two sports at once, writing deadlines will not always coincide with computer breakdowns, and once this cold snap was over the big kids could walk to church on Sunday if necessary.

Nevertheless, this maelstrom I found myself in proved that you have to fight to keep things simple. “Stuff” is always creeping in, piling up on my desk and on my bedside table, adding itself mysteriously to my schedule and my to-do list, insinuating its way almost imperceptibly into my life and into my family, until a week like that comes along and slaps me awake.

To paraphrase Wendell Phillips, the price of simplicity is, truly, eternal vigilance [1] because “entropy increases.” [2]

But what is simplicity, really, and why should we be concerned to seek and maintain it in our lives? Most people freely admit that they long for a simpler life. But how is it even possible in such a complicated world?

The purpose of striving for a simple life varies with each individual, but I believe the most universal reason is:

We would prefer to conserve our most precious personal resources—time, energy, attention—in a way that allows us to direct those resources toward things that are truly important, such as personal growth, important relationships, worship of God, service to our neighbor, and activities that give joy and meaning to our lives, rather than frittering them away on endless trivial errands, the minutiae of daily life, and the “tyranny of the urgent.” [3]

The hectic pace and materialistic focus of modern life in the technologically advanced regions of the world leads to dissipation of our energies and focus, and as a result, our “deeper aspirations remain unsatisfied and perhaps even stifled.” [4]

What are those deeper aspirations? According to author David Shi, they include “…purity of soul, the life of the mind, the cohesion of the family, [and] the good of society.” [5] I would add rewarding friendships and the pursuit of enjoyable creative endeavors.

Some of my favorite books on this subject:

Simplicity by John Michael Talbot

Make Room for God by Susan K. Rowland

Plain and Simple by Sue Bender

The Tightwad Gazette by Amy Dacyczyn

Walden by Henry David Thoreau

Simplify Your Life: 100 Ways to Slow Down and Enjoy the Things That Really Matter by Elaine St. James

 

[1] “The price of liberty is eternal vigilance.” Wendell Phillips (1811-1884) American abolitionist, orator, and writer. A contemporary of Henry David Thoreau.

[2] The Second Law of Thermodynamics

[3] Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) said, “Our lives are frittered away by detail…Simplify, simplify!”

[4] Pope John Paul II, On Social Concern (Sollicitudo Rei Socialis) December 30, 1987, no. 28

[5] David Shi, The Simple Life: Plain Living and High Thinking in American Culture (New York: Oxford University Press, 1985), p 3-4

Filed Under: simplicity, Uncategorized

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