Yet Untitled 149 - Wear and Tear

An Ode to Stuff that Lasts

Dearest Yet Untitler

I have a few possessions that have withstood the test of time. Today I’m prompted by the pleasure I experience when I see these things fulfilling their purpose. I guess I’m inspired by their longevity.

A man with his stuff. What’s new about that?

Perhaps nothing. But perhaps there’s more than is apparent in this oft-seen trait among dudes, or in me. As I do every week, I will gently excavate and share whatever artefacts emerge from my earth.

I recall some passages from The Bridges of Madison County that stayed with me.

Kincaid reminds me of someone 🤔. Wait. Me! Or at least how I want to see myself in a Clint Eastwood kind of way 😂.

Towards the end, when the children of Francesca (played by Meryl Streep in the movie) receive the letter in which she confesses her tryst with Robert Kincaid, the Byronic photographer (played by Clint Eastwood in the movie), they speak of Kincaid’s well worn camera equipment - working, but polished down almost to bare metal by use.

My old Pentax that I inherited, well worn but working, from writer and mentor Kiran Nagarkar.

If I was to isolate what I liked from these passages, then it must be this: Kincaid’s equipment was functioning - performing - despite the long years of rigour he put it through.

Scars, scrapes, scratches, wrinkles, fading, chipped edges. I think that they’re all a testament of survival. They’re evidence of resilience. They’re proof that the thing that bears them could withstand all the wear and tear time put them through.

My Leica MP, gracefully ageing.

Unlike humans, things don’t have the capacity to heal by themselves. Things only heal when humans repair them. Things survive either because humans take care of them or if humans build them to be resilient.

I would love for my mobile phone to be that kind of a survivor. But the bloody thing has been designed to become redundant every few years! With the passage of time, it’s geared to become less and less usable! I refuse to believe that such depreciation isn’t driven by intent - that fruity company that makes my phone is intelligent enough to make a device that really lasts if it wanted so.

Phones, they don’t build ‘em like they used to..!

It gives me solace to know that something can last if it’s built to last. I believe that such intention can define such an outcome. Building things that last is sometimes expensive. But does this not save you the cost of having to replace something frequently?

This newsletter is full of photos of things that have lasted, some of them while they were exclusively in my care. To me, this suggests that I’m capable of taking care of things, keeping them in a way that gives them a better chance of lasting.

My brother’s 'Tag, 30 years old at the time of writing this instalment.

Does this mean that I’m capable of taking similar care of myself? Of other humans under my care, or those I’m connected to? Perhaps not. But it does tell me that care leads to longevity, and this can apply to one’s person and relationships.

My Buddhist prayer beads, they’ve seen a lot of prayer, and this binds us together. Each time they fall apart, I mend them myself with a little thread. When I rub them against each other, the sandalwood beads still give off the scent of sandalwood.

The marks on my things are memories. They’re evocative. My prayer beads, seven years old, remind me of all the prayers that they’ve accompanied me in deploying. The smoothness of the beads themselves, worn from ample friction between my palms, stand testament to all prayers I have offered.

There’s obviously some value attributed to the way time marks things. Think aged wine. Think whiskey. Diamonds. Some businesses try to fake this: they simulate aging and sell you their stuff based on this trick. I see this in a pair of sneakers I own. It’s cute, but not the same thing at all. There’s no story in between those cracks.

The simulated wear and tear on my Golden Goose sneakers.

I see an increasing urge around me to discard what’s broken. We, who live in an increasingly broken world, cannot afford to feed this habit. We, who have the ingenuity to fix anything that’s broken.

See this clip from Zhang Yimou’s The Road Home, one that I’ve shared many times before on Yet Untitled:

While I would love to own and use a plate such as the one on the film clip, I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Perhaps I’m a bit out of time with such fancies.

These things of mine, these resilient things - I’m glad they’re still with me. I’d forgotten, but I’ve written about some of them before in a very early YU, which can be read as an accompaniment to this one. See below:

I think I keep coming back to this theme because, like my Endurables, I want to last. In the end, there’s a lot that isn’t in our hands when it come to this question of lasting, but there’s a lot that is in our hands as well.

Like my enduring stuff, I too want to last and create value in this realm for the longest time that I can.

Outlive by Dr. Peter Attia is a fantastic book about Longevity. It was gifted to me with this amazing inscription by my beloved Shonali Bose.

Thanks for listening, dearest Yet Untitler. May you and I both endure!

Lots of love

V

PS. Tell me about an endurable of your own that refuses to say die!