Tool Hoarding and Narrative Wargaming

 As I've been cleaning, purging, and reorganizing my newly reclaimed workshop, one of the most daunting tasks is processing all of the tools that I have acquired over the years. 

My dad used to work for Stanley Works in New Britain, CT. One of the last hold-outs when production was all moving overseas. He was there for 20 years or so, and in that time had assembled a very impressive collection of tools. 

Every Christmas and birthday, we were usually given some sort of limited edition, or prototype tool that he had squirreled away from work, until we, in our early 20's had our own huge tool collection to figure out what the hell to do with.

I don't think this story is wildly different than most men across the world. Dad passes his tools down when he gets something better, and then the children are burdened by a lot of heavy, sentimental, and (sometimes) quality tools they need to find something to do with.

So I'm working through all the screwdrivers, the socket sets, the toolboxes of varying qualities, the wrenches big and small and all the other literal nuts and bolts that I've packed up, moved around to different living situations, until it finally ended up crowding my current work space.

We end up torn between two demons. One the sentimental "my dad gave me this, and I love him" mentality, and the equally damning "This is useful and would be a shame to throw out." 

Yet both of these hold us back from really appreciating the tools we have. 

Most of you reading this probably are also wargamers (apologies that my posts are typically just digital diary entries), and as wargamers we are familiar with the heroes we create. The more we use those warlords, the deeper the lore develops. They become increasingly important to us, we think fondly about their come-from-behind victories, and laugh at the time we rolled all ones, and their head was split open. 

The more we use our toys, the more meaning they have to us.

If we spread our time among too many of our heroes, we never give them the time they need to breathe and come to life. We never get a chance to respect and give power to these little inanimate objects.

If I strip these tools down in the same way - I give them a similar power. Having one #2 Philips head screwdriver means that it goes from being just A screwdriver, to being MY screwdriver. When it's time to use it, I'll grab my familiar friend and take him along on another adventure. My screwdriver gets a chance to come alive. His story and my story become one, and one day - if he gets lost, stolen, or broken, then his story gets to end. He isn't trashed as just a broken screwdriver, but gets a pause and a head nod from me, a job well done from a good friend of mine.

I'll end with a great quote from Marie Kondo:

“By handling each sentimental item and deciding what to discard, you process your past. If just stow these things away in a drawer or cardboard box, before you realize it, your past will become a weight that holds you back and keeps you from living in the here and now. To put things in order means to put your past in order.”

Be well friends,

xoxo