Things Are Only Things

When I was eighteen I took the thousand-dollar inheritance from my grandmother, added some of my own savings, and bought my first car—a brand new metallic blue VW Bug.

Since my father always parked his car in the garage, I had to park mine on the street. A few weeks after my big purchase, I walked out of the house toward my beautiful new car and my jaw dropped. My precious VW had been sideswiped, leaving two ugly black scratches on its left rear fender. I was furious. My brand new car was ruined.

After a month of fuming I realized that I was allowing my life to be ruined by those two horrible scratches, and that my anger wasn’t doing me a bit of good. It couldn’t help me to find or punish the culprit. It couldn’t transform my car back to its original pristine condition.

A car, no matter how expensive or how beautiful, is only a thing. So I decided to let go of my anger, and for the rest of my life to never be upset about things. I resolved to reserve my emotional energy exclusively for people. Things can be fixed. Things can be replaced. People cannot.

And I am pleased to report that from that day to this I have lived by my decision. I have not darkened my mood or my life with anger or regret about a thing.

I recently scratched a van I now own. I refuse to be angry. I will just pay to have it fixed. When she was seventeen one of my daughters was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. As I write this, her condition can be treated but it cannot be fixed. I am concerned about her, not the van.

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We must rapidly begin the shift from a “thing-oriented” society to a “person-oriented” society
—Martin Luther King, Jr.

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I once traveled with my family to Australia where more than 95 percent of the world’s gem-quality opals are mined. One afternoon in Sydney, after a boat tour of its beautiful harbor, we stepped into a shop which our guide said was the best in Australia for buying opals.

My wife collects rings, and the ring she picked out was drop-dead gorgeous. It was also drop-dead expensive, and probably cost as much as half of the other rings in her collection combined. But after some brief negotiation and hesitation I bought it for her.

Daveen wore her green and blue opal consistently for two weeks after we returned.

Until we went to the theater. . .

When the curtain fell and the lights rose after the first act of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels the musical playing at Hollywood’s Pantages Theater, Daveen gasped.

“My ring!”

I looked at her hand, and saw the thin gold outline of a ring, but no gemstone.

“Your orange stone?” I asked.

“No! My opal!”

Daveen doesn’t panic easily, but her response reminded me of how I felt when I first saw those ugly scratches on my VW Bug.

We searched the floor. We searched the seats. Five ushers helped us during intermission. No opal.

After the show was over we searched the theater again, this time with eight or ten ushers helping out. Still no opal.

I certainly don’t like to lose anything. Even more, I don’t like someone else to lose a gift that I’ve given them, especially when the gift was expensive. But gone is gone and I refuse to be upset about the loss or destruction of a thing. So we gave our name and telephone number to the manager of the theater and left for home.

The drive home was silent. While we both thought that we had seen the last of the opal, I am pleased to report that the mini-disaster did not spoil the rest of our evening. Daveen, to her credit, seemed to put her anguish aside.

The next morning life went on and the new day was not to be marred by a missing thing.  We were both able to weather this potential storm by using what has come to be one of my favorite People Tools: Things Are Only Things.

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Love can come to everyone, The best things in life are free.
—Buddy DeSylva

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Do you like happy endings? I do.

Immediately after I arrived at work the next day, I called Daveen:

“Hi, Daveen.”

“Hi.”

“I found the opal.”

“What!?

“It was on my desk. It probably fell out when you picked me up at the office last night.  The cleaning crew must have found it and put it on my desk.”

Silence. Then, “Thank goodness.”

I love Daveen. I like, but do not love, any ring, or any car, no matter how expensive or how beautiful.

Alan