REFLECTIONS ON MATERIALISM

There are more heartwarming contexts for the phrase "the best things in life are free." Wouldn't it be nice if I was here to talk about a child's laughter or a kind gesture from a friend? But apparently I'm more materialistic than all that, because what I got for free recently was a loveseat, and that's the reason that my cup runneth over this week.

Maybe I'm just a material girl, as I tell Mark from time to time.

We didn't know the loveseat in question existed until about four o'clock in the afternoon last Saturday. I was reading ads in the free section of Craigslist (a new hobby of mine) and found one with an address about three blocks from our house. One red loveseat, left on the curb, free to anyone who would haul it away.

I was feeling like a very material girl that day. Once I'd seen the loveseat in person, I wanted it.

All well and good except that there wasn't a snowball's chance in Florida that it would fit in our car. It took about ten minutes to arrange to borrow a friend's truck, but we'd have to get over to his house and drive back to where the loveseat that was soon to be ours was sitting in the remains of the most recent snowfall. I was half afraid that it would be gone before we could get to it, and half afraid that it wouldn't be. The latter fear is the one that was realized, but by then I couldn't back out. I'd have to let my materialism run its course.

It had looked a lot smaller on the curb and even in the back of the truck than it did once we'd wrangled it into our living room. While I was feeling buyer's remorse over something we'd got for free, Mark was weighing the options. What if we pushed it up against the radiator, in front of the window, between the bookshelves, like so . . . ? We agreed to leave it there for a few days, and if we weren't satisfied, we'd cash in on the money-back guarantee.

Which, since it had been free, would mean moving the loveseat out to our own curb, at the mercy of somebody else's materialistic urges.

I had a friend over on Sunday afternoon and we sat cozied into opposite corners of the free loveseat while we drank tea and talked. It was so snug and idyllic, and I thought that maybe this had been a good idea after all.

It didn't take long to become attached (maybe re-attached, given the initial attraction) to this, the warmest, sunniest spot in the living room. A good place for reading or napping or writing, making use of a previously empty space under the window. I can hardly bring myself to sit anywhere else. I'm sitting there at this very moment.

It isn't actually materialism at the root of this story - it's the journey to making a place where all the best things can happen. The best things in life are compelling conversations, afternoon naps, long hours with a good book. All free things. And they happen on a free loveseat.