"Don't Ever Sell Your Saddle"

[Asherdan]

Like the old saying says.

I don't put a lot of my self into the things I own, hell, I've spent more time and thought narrowing things out of my possession. But I ran across that saying today and it rang true to me. My saddle is an old split fork Y I got from my Uncle Bud and it, my Dad's shop tools and my first lever action rifle ain't never gonna be sold.

Why? Emotional attachment plus utility. They're all tools to a purpose I enjoy.

So, whether it's a lot that's dear to you or a little, what you gonna die with?

[KeithHernandez]

The Electric Guitar I have now- Fender Jazzmaster.

A few pedals I love- Big Muff Sovtek, Digitech RV-7 (those two are pretty much MBV in a (few) box(es), but also so much more.), Jamman looper.

Uh, my record collection??  I don't think I have anything really, except the guitar and pedals.  I would probably never sell my record collection, but if it comes to it I would.  I'm sure I always have some type of mp3 player, but it will change 10-15 times before I die.

[jay-ell]

My mom saved her mother's favorite apron from the trash heap, threadbare as it was, and handed it down to me. I used the fabric to mat and frame a copy of a photo of my mom with her parents and sisters, circa 1952, and gave it to her for Mother's Day. That one will stay in the family.

I have the usual assortment of family photos and heirloom dolls hand-crocheted by my grandmother, and Christmas ornaments that I remember putting on the tree when I was too small to reach any but the lowest branches. Among big-ticket items, though, I have three:

First is my great-grandmother's piano, which was a wedding gift to her from my great-grandfather about 100 years ago. How I ended up with it, I'm not sure, since my grandfather was the oldest of 9 children and my mom has over 40 first cousins who could easily have claimed it. But one of the main requirements when we purchased our house last year was that it needed a formal living room that could contain this beautiful mahogany upright. Once, probably fifteen years ago, my parents decided to have it tuned, and when they took the back panel off they discovered the footprints of a small child in the dust. Those footprints could have belonged to any of my mom's aunts or uncles, but Mom decided to believe they belonged to her father, and there they remain to this day.

The second piece is my father's desk. It's a behemoth, leather-top desk, pockmarked with pen marks and featuring a spring-loaded tray that lifts into place, designed for a large mechanical typewriter. It's special to me because my Dad wrote his MA thesis at this desk, and it's also where he drafted the plans for every house I've ever lived in. I used to sit on his lap at this desk and he'd show me how to use his drafting templates to create my own dream homes. I remember the big IBM typewriter he used to keep in the "secret compartment," and when I open the drawers I remember the smell of the Sucrets lozenges he always had in the middle drawer. It's in my office and it makes me happy.

The third piece is my dollhouse. My parents built it for me for my 6th birthday -- well, mostly. They never finished decorating it, but we always said we'd finish it together. This is no Barbie Dream Home, mind you -- this is a 13-room mansion with a full attic at 1/16" scale (a popular scale in the 1970s, but hard to find now, which is part of why it's still not complete). It's 3 doll-stories tall (nearly 3 feet) and spans most of the length and width of the 4x8 piece of plywood on which it stands. It's in my storage shed, waiting for the day my kids are old enough to appreciate its history and help me finally complete a project that spans 3 generations.

I don't cling to small things, unfortunately.

[littlefallsmets]

I got a Mickey penis doll my great-grandmother gave to me as a toddler.

I got a small stash of merchandise relating to my hometown's defunct minor league baseball team.

Nearly everything else is replaceable.

[greenkoolayd]

my mom probably has some little things that she'll give me when i start a family...... everything i own right now is for my personal use.

[theinevitable]

yeah, I don't think I own anything right now on that level. I guess my guitar, I fuck*ng love this thing.

[lprkn]

A WWII-era Marine Corps ring that my dad's AA mentor and second father (who I was almost named for) gave to him when he joined the Marines. The mentor was an Army WWII vet who had been at Guadalcanal and saved a Marine's life; the Marine gave him his ring in gratitude.

Got to get it re-sized, it only fits on my left ring finger. Probably should just wear it there, I'm basically married to the Marine Corps at this point anyway.

[AugustWest]

I'm pretty sentimental about that kind of stuff, but I'm trying to become less so.

My guitars.  The acoustic I've had for about 30 years now, a Christmas gift from my Dad.  My 1965 (year I was born) SG Jr. which I bought in college.

I'm pretty attached to a few pieces of furniture.  My Grandfather's handmade bed that I slept in growing up.  A massive dining room table that was my Mom's and before that her aunt's.

My first camera.

Stuff like that. 

[pmcd9]

I have a few things that I am attached to, but the thing I am closest with is my camera.  I can't imagine I would ever sell it, but I'll probably use it to death.

[dejavroom]

Funny, I was just thinking about this earlier, because in my last move I threw away my rotten "Nevermind" vinyl in a "fuck it" moment, and that was probably the closest I had of something I'd like to hang on to (not as a result of an aesthetic judgment, of course; but it was kinda symbolic, I guess). Moving from one place to another is a good time to figure out the things you couldn't split from. After spending the last half hour thinking about this, I think that other than old family letters and pictures, and a few books, I'd let everything else go. But I don't really have a lot of things to start with, so maybe that's easier for me to say that.

[Drygioni]

Guitars
CD Collection (it can't be worth too much anyway I suppose)
My ice axe. Every good mountaineer needs a USED ice axe when they're in their 60's to show the grandkids
My books

Would not sell any of the above unless it was to fund a crack habit.

Certain objects I will not throw away/sell/not own unless I have a replacement: MP3 player, football

Nothing too exciting. Not enough life lived/things passed on yet

[Carlos del Vaca]

I was once given a poll question, "If you were going to be stranded on a desert island with an unequipped kitchen, what five items would you bring?"  Two of mine were the long-handled wooden spoon that I got from my grandparents' house when we were cleaning it out, and the big yellow-pot that belonged to my great-grandmother.

[miles]

I'm sure I always have some type of mp3 player, but it will change 10-15 times before I die.

Things have been kind of fucked for me recently, and when I read this, I glanced at my mp3 player, which is only my second, and it gave me this terrible sense of mortality.

I'll hang on to my paternal grandfather's typewriter, which, along with some books written by his father and one or two not that he or my grandmother gave me, and a few other trinkets of his, all of which I will also hang on to, are at my parents' house for safekeeping because I can't seem to find any roots, and all of which, except the typewriter, can fit into a relatively small box. Jesus, that was a terrible sentence. I also have some cassettes that my grandmother made for me while they were in Australia, well, nearly 30 years ago which I'll always have, even though I need to get the recordings digitized.

Just about everything else I care about now, including my CDs, records, electric guitar, organ (also currently with my parents) and a few boxes full of other books, I can see myself parting with somewhere down the road. Maybe less so the records and some of the books, but I'm just being realistic.

And I'm sure if I end up outliving my parents and a close uncle, I'll end up collecting a few other items.

Oh, and probably some photos.

[Arachno-capitalist]

I have a pocket watch that is engraved with the name and symbols of one of the original 'gangs of new york' that my ancient relative passed down. When my grandfather gave it to me and I did the research on the engravings my reaction could be summed up as "I have descended from badassery, I will make you proud"