Stuff.

Stuff: To fill too full; cram; overload: as the drawer is stuffed with papers.

There's a great scene from an episode of The Simpsons where the wealthy industrialist Montgomery Burns is lying on his deathbed, waiting to expire from some unknown ailment, and his assistant Waylon Smithers asks him if he has any last words of wisdom that he would like to share. He leans in close to hear the whispery voice croak out a final thought.

"I only wish," Mr. Burns wheezes, "that I'd spent more time at the office."

First of all, don't you wonder how an adult man can navigate his way through life when he bases all of his philosophical tenets on a series of dim-witted and fairly profane cartoon characters running on the Fox network? It's not easy, I can tell you that.

Anyway, if I get the joke here -- and I think that I do -- the point is that . . . well, it's a pretty obvious point. You'd have to be pretty sheltered not to get it. Work is great and everything and we all have to do it to fund whatever shallow and pointless pursuits that we think are critical to our happiness. But a lot of us spend too much time doing it and thinking about it and letting it drive who we are.

I can acquire things or I can acquire experiences. Things are deceptive and illusory and strangely compelling. I see things and I want things. I spend money on an experience and I'm not left with anything tangible to hold in my hand. Now if I buy a piece of stuff, then I can heft it up and wield it like a club. I can say: "Hey, look at this stuff." I can show it off and gaze at it lovingly. That's why it's so compelling. It's a thing that shows how important you are.


The experience, however, lives in my head forever.