Sag Harbor-When Less was More
For some time, I have carried this burden of feeling ‘less’ due the great influx of those with ‘more’. It’s hard to shake when surrounded by ‘more’-more money, more experiences, more opportunities-bigger boats, fancier cars, private schools, season tickets to the ballet, more push, more pull, more, more, more.
Growing up in Sag Harbor we all seemed about equal and ‘more’ or ‘less’ wasn’t something we even thought about. Two of my friends, had swimming pools and we’d do what we could to be invited for a swim. Those were about the only two swimming pools in Sag Harbor I knew of. On particularly hot days, if you could rustle up 50 cents, you could pay to swim in Baron’s Cove Inn’s swimming pool and that felt like heaven.
Most of us lived in small ranch houses while others lived in creaky old historic homes. Our kitchen floors were often linoleum, some walls were paneled, bathroom fixtures olive green, appliances white, and we all had clotheslines in our yards. We mowed our own lawns, planted our own gardens, drove station wagons to the prom and couldn’t wait to save enough Green Stamps to acquire some kind of wonderful prize.
Phone cords stretched from room to room when pulled tight. Hairdryers were bonnets hooked up to a hose, curlers were foam and stayed in all night. We’d go to Osborne Farm in Wainscot to pick strawberries and probably ate as many as we put in the basket-fingers and lips stained strawberry pink.
No one cared about the make of your clothes. We ordered some from the Sears and Montgomery Ward catalogs along with other items we needed. When we could we shopped at the ‘Cracker Barrel’ on Main Street. I still remember the big heating grate in the floor and the small table for kids to sit and read. We were always happy with hand-me-downs. There wasn’t a focus on possessions or make-up or the latest fashion trends.
Shopping for school supplies at the ‘Five and Ten’ was one of the highlights of the year. We got to pick out a new three ring binder, a pencil case and one of those large elastic bands that held our books in place.
The playing field of life seemed even-I can’t remember a time when we sought after more. Enough seemed to be enough-if you had what you needed - you had enough.
And now those tiny ranches are being transformed into giant homes. Many cars dotting Main Street cost more than my home did to build. Local shops are filled with items that cost enough to help feed a family of four. I remember Agnes and Bill, an elderly couple in my prayer group years ago, who reminisced about the first time they purchased a clothes dryer. When putting in their first load to be dried they stood mesmerized watching the miracle of the clothes spinning around.
Perhaps in our culture striving for more has advantages but when did ‘more’ become so important? Life seemed simple and enjoyable until the concept of ‘more’. And now the divide seems to be growing-the disparity throbbing like an open wound. We see brash examples of ‘more’ on a daily basis.
Yet, in material ways, I certainly have ‘more’ than my parents had, and they had ‘more’ than their parents had and each generation seems to acquire a bit more of ‘more’. At times the simplicity of life seems lost. Many hire home organizers to help them deal with ‘more’, and fill dumpsters and landfills with the overflow.
There is often a race for our children to become more, learn more, acquire more with examples like the repugnant college scandals and success measured in dollars and cents. Yes, we want our kids to reach for the stars-but we also want them to save the planet, care about their neighbors, and enjoy the sheer splendor of the earth.
Some portions of the planet are reaching for ‘less’- tiny homes, home organizers, busy recycling centers, thrift store revivals-there is always hope that the race for ‘more’ will be a draw. Perhaps we’ll once again hang our clothes on clotheslines and know that we’re all an integral part of our beautiful, loving, community.
