Mature Life Features

. . . to watch WalMart

lower its prices day after day.

I’m waiting until their stuff is free.

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Your Treasure Is

Trash to Heirs

A former colleague avidly checks any and all change he receives hunting for those 25-cent pieces commemorating the 50 states of the Union. He says he’s collecting them for his grandchildren.

But he’s the same fellow who’s collected shelves and shelves and shelves, plus boxes and boxes and boxes, of books — and still has them. He’s like a lot of people. He collects things for the same reason Linus clomped onto his security blanket in Charles Schultz’ globally popular comic strip, “Peanuts.” For security.

People amass art and antique anything, baseball cards, Cabbage Patch dolls, ties and teddy bears, sports sweaters and shirts, balls and bats, vintage vehicles, shoes and stamps, model airplanes and locomotives, comic books and coffee mugs, rocks and record albums, and beer bottles and board games.

The simple reason in a majority of cases, especially for individuals who grew up during the spartan Great Depression and rationing of World War II, is that it’s a way to assure ourselves we can afford to own something. And we leave it to family or friends to trash our treasures — that piece of coral from the Great Barrier Reef, chunk of the old Berlin Wall, shell from Waikiki Beach.

If you’ve had to settle matters in the death of a loved one, you’ve probably had to rummage through some sort of collection: costume jewelry, dresses, toy railroad trains, autographs, china, hotel ash trays. Despite our sentimental sense that we’re creating a trove for our successors, no one really wants our “stuff.”

So if you’ve boxed all those valuable salt and pepper shakers and stuffed them into the basement, garage or attic, now’s the time to get them appraised and sell them. Or give them away. If you can’t even do that, trash them. After all, even you aren’t using or enjoying them.

So, if you’re saving those statehood quarters for your granddaughter, ask her first if she wants them. If she doesn’t, keep on saving them until you have enough to buy yourself a fine bottle of wine. At least you have an excuse for collecting.