Modern Potlatch

I studied Anthropology in college. It married my love of people, culture, and geography. Some of the most interesting indigenous populations we studied lived along the Pacific Northwest Coast of North America. That’s when I first heard the term “potlatch,” a type of feast. During these feasts, the host family gave away as much of their wealth as they could. People derived status not from how much they had, but from how much they gave away.

Do you ever feel trapped by your growing stash of material things? Perhaps feel like they strap you down to a lifestyle that keeps you indentured to your credit card company instead of to a life of adventure?

The whole notion of protecting material things feels increasingly burdensome to me. Take a new car for example. The worst thing about a new car is that you now need to worry about it 24/7. Worry that someone is going to steal it or something is going to dent it. I’ve often joked to friends with new cars that they should pick up a rock, step back ten feet and hurl it at the car to get the dent over with, so they can focus their energy on more important things.

I stopped buying new cars back in 1990. That year I bought a brand new Toyota Celica and proudly parked it in a parking garage. Eight hours later I returned to a scarred car. Someone trying to send me some kind of message took a key and dragged it all over the left side of the car, including the hood and roof.

What frightened me the most wasn’t the angry key artist, it was my own reaction: I almost had a nervous breakdown right there on level 4, crying and carrying on inside my scarred car. Since that incident I’ve figured out that the real scars weren’t on the outside of my car, they were on the inside of me for being so attached to a hunk of plastic and metal. Been trying to heal them ever since.

A few days ago during this fierce, whipping wind, I came out of the supermarket to find a shopping cart smooching my driver’s side door. I pulled the two inanimate lovers apart and sure enough the remnants of their lovemaking smiled back at me in the form of a gigantic dent.

My reaction this time? Potlatch anyone?

Muse thx ,

Giulietta