The other day one of the incarcerated men at San Quentin prison told me he was downsizing his cell. His “cellie” was getting out on parole and leaving him all his stuff. That meant that on top of his possessions he would have to assess how much he could keep in order to make room for a new cellmate.
I questioned just how much stuff an inmate might acquire in five to fifty years behind bars; apparently, it’s quite a lot especially when space is at a premium. Besides personal items (clothes and toiletries) items that are stashed in their cells might include televisions, fans, books, radios, notebooks, food and makeshift items that are borderline contraband (but by no means dangerous or harmful) etcetera.
The big thing right now is to acquire experiences and memories, not possessions. I get it – but possessions also provide nice memories and I like to experience the comfort and joy that they bring as well. I don’t deny that the spirit of Christmas has become a feeding frenzy, but I will admit that I do love presents. And let’s get real – are you dreaming about a white Christmas or a new iPad? And if Christmas is about giving; who am I to deny my daughter from giving me a gift certificate for a much-needed massage?
I told the guys about the popularity of tiny homes (see Sunday's New York Times article, Small Is the New Big Thing). I don’t think there are any in Marin County (where San Quentin is located) where the medium price of a house is $850k. (If they could rent their cells, they could probably get around $1500 a month.) Remarkably, prison cell space can be rented. Space is so sparse and the men are very guarded over their possessions and every single inch of room that they have is precious.
I thought about a Christmas party I went to last weekend where the house was so big you needed GPS to find the bathroom. The pantry was at least twice as big as the men’s cells and if they ever considered the contents of the wealth on their shelf they would find gourmet seasonings that had expired in 1998, along with gifted gourmet items including duck bouillon cubes, Himalayan pink salt, and other items they had received as Christmas gifts and never used. When four-car garages can no longer hold all the items, 55" TVs replaced by 75" TVs, etc. they spillover to self-storage parks where a 7x10 unit goes for around $270.
The fact that I have boxes stashed in my garage that I don't know the contents of (labels? what labels?) gives me pause and I decide even though I never make New Year's resolutions, I might consider recycling some of the coats and boots I haven't worn for 10 years; although I realize this is a gamble because as soon as I get rid of them they will come back in style.
(For many of us, our best attempt at recycling is to pass on our older daughter's clothes to our younger daughter. On one such occasion, I recall my youngest receiving a sweater for Christmas that was too big and giving it to her older sister. Oh, so this is a hand-me-up she declared in her four-year-old innocence.)
It is the last year of the decade, and in a few minutes, I'll drive over to San Quentin early enough to avoid traffic and drunk drivers. I had a friend who said she was so glad the year was over and good riddance to the politics and relationships that had gone wrong. I hesitated to say that the year-end did not close the door on any of this. But for many it does give hope to a new year of fresh starts; Getting organized! Exercising! and yes, Cleaning Out the Closet.
And for the men in San Quentin, another year of hoping and waiting and getting by. And downsizing. Happy New Year to all.
New York Times article image 12/29/19
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