As you know, Dear Reader, I have recently been looking at and talking about the concepts of minimalism. While I can not currently claim membership in that club, it is the direction in which I’m moving, and it occurs to me that it is the direction from whence I came. Yes, I was once a certifiable minimalist – long before it was popular, before there was a fancy nameplate to hang on one’s door to announce it to the world. It was just the way it was. No; I didn’t grow up in the Great Depression, it was something far stranger than that.
You see, it began in childhood. We were an Air Force family and the government has never been any too generous with Non-Com pay rates. My parent’s always saw that the 4 of us young’uns had what we needed, but frills were few. Don’t get me wrong; we weren’t raised in a packing crate or anything, we were comfortable and happy. The only time I ever felt even a little deprived was when a friend came to school wearing a pair of the latest tennis shoes – you know, the ones that make you run like the wind and allow you to leap over small buildings in a single bound, I’d feel a twinge of envy. But it passed quickly. My parents raised us with better values than that. They taught us to find contentment in what we had. More or less! Read the rest of this entry »