Who Wants What

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There was an interesting article in the Kitsap Herald this week called: “Who Wants What?” and other things in flux. The article talked about a family trying to figure out who got what when their parent or relative died. It is something that with the events of the summer has been on my mind. I realized what may be of value to us, can be of very little value to someone else. Just because we either received something wonderful as a gift or saved and bought it with our own money, means nothing to many people.

From the days when I lived a more urbane lifestyle I have a collection of beautiful crystal, china and silver. I became aware in the last few years that some younger people not only do not think of it as valuable, they disdain that I have not sold it for the money it would now bring. It is of no value to them. Several years ago, a new family member randomly took a glass from the cabinet to the beach, then left it over night on the arm of the chair by the fire pit, no knowing and not asking if it was okay. I don’t usually take my Waterford to the beach or leave it outside over night. That same visit another new family member used a couple Waterford crystal bowls to put chips on the picnic table just going into the pantry and taking the first thing they saw. Those bowls were a gift from my late husband that he bought as a surprise from a jewelry store going out of business. They fit in the lifestyle we had at the time. They are a fond memory of someone I loved and I don’t take them outside. I was informed I should sell these things and no one should keep glasses or bowls worth so much.

I started looking in to selling as I discussed in another article, but find it is no longer worth what I paid for it. So do you sell or enjoy?

As I approach my sixty-eighth birthday next week I have been pondering what will happen to all the “stuff” I have collected all my adult life. It seems the older I get, the less I want. I love the look of a perfectly clean clutter free countertop, but I do love the feel of drinking wine from a beautiful stemmed Riedel wineglass. For some reason scotch takes better to me in a heavy leaded crystal glass, so I think I will keep these as long as I can enjoy a little glass of something in the evening.

For twenty-five years I’ve moved two big boxes of Lionel Trains to different houses. This last year I offered them to my sons, thinking they would want them. Only one son wanted any of them and he only wanted the four oldest ones; so I sold the rest and lightened my moving load. I started asking my sons this summer, what if anything they might want. My oldest plays chess and wanted the ivory chess set his father bought forty years ago when he was in the military. My youngest said he would like toys from his father’s youth and his fishing rods; so he can have them any time.

And so it goes as I look around my home and wonder if they will want any of it when I am gone? I am thinking of making an excel spreadsheet list with all the good stuff, send it to each of them and see if anyone wants anything, then put the outcome in my will. I do want my own sons and no one else to be left what they want to have. I don’t want to add stress to their already busy lives, by having them have to deal with “stuff”, so I think I will donate what they do not want to a charity of my choice. I don’t want them arguing about “who gets what” or who or how do we sell all this stuff. I would rather see it donated to a good cause, rather than sold at some creepy garage sale like my brother insisted that we do with my mother’s belongings when she went in full time care.

When I go, I want to leave behind good memories and happy thoughts for my family, a few things they can pass on to their families and nothing more.

Who Wants What

What is real?

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10What is real?

Like photographs pulled from an old shoebox in a dusty attic, Michael Paul Smith’s photostream is
filled with images echoing warm memories of mid-twentieth century America. Many who view his photos of vintage cars and familiar buildings are often hit with nostalgia. That feeling, however, quickly leads to bewilderment upon learning the truth: Michael’s pictures aren’t real!

“When I tell people my photos are actually models — just little cars on a table that I’ve recreated — they’re shocked,” Michael tells The Weekly Flickr in the accompanying video. “It’s a great moment. I really do love it!”

Motivated by a fascination with the mid-twentieth century era and a desire to catalog the past, Michael set out to build and photograph fictional, miniaturized scenes from the 1950s.

“The ’50s and ’60s had a sense of hope about them,” Michael says. “Television had come in, new cars came out every year and everyone avidly looked at science fiction hoping to get a glimpse of what the future was going to be like. The future was tangible, and it just made it worth while getting up in the morning to see what was going to come down the pipe next. It was an amazing time.”

As a kid, Michael was an avid model car collector. He’s started out building cheap model cars and later advanced to diecasts and truck models. Over time, he became aware of how cars changed; this evolution fascinated him and piqued his interest even further.

“As I began collecting cars, I became curious to see where it all came from,” Michael recalls. “It was mainly from the ’40s, ’50s and ’60s. And after awhile, I could identify the things that changed. So I started collecting as many tangible objects as I could from the past – wallpaper, linoleum and rugs – mainly as a keepsake. When my collection got so large, I started making models and setting them up as realistic as possible. Photography naturally started to come in when I wanted to document everything. And that’s how it all started!”

Today, Michael’s model car collection consists of over 300 cars — most of them prominently displayed in Elgin Park, the fictitious town he created for his series.

The town consists of a dozen or so scale model buildings, which Michael mixes and matches to create many different sets. He carefully inserts his model cars into specific scenes and photographs them against outdoor backdrops in and around his hometown of Winchester, Massachusetts.

“The process of creating a photo is interesting,” Michael says. “I like to mix the old with the new and sort of juxtapose everything. For example, I’ll have a ‘57 Mercury and set it up against a carwash model I created. Honestly, it’s just kind of playing. It’s creative play.”

Elgin Park has everything: a train station, a supermarket, even a movie theater. One thing, however, it does not have are people — an intentional move on Michael’s part.

“From the very beginning, I decided that there will be no people in Elgin Park,” Michael explains. “I felt that having people interfere in the photograph, and the rest of the scene sort of disappears. I didn’t want that. Now, viewers can get involved in the photograph itself.”

And viewers have gotten involved — millions in fact! They’ve made Elgin Park into a tourist destination, attracting over 20 million views, all via cyberspace, since January 2010. A number, even today, Michael still can’t believe.

“For a long time, I never showed my photographs to anyone,” Michael says. “I just thought people wouldn’t get it. Seemed kinda quirky to me, you know? Here’s a grown man with little model cars and buildings that he’s creating. But after a couple years, stuff was just languishing on my computer. It was brought to my attention that Flickr existed, and so I posted them, and within a couple months, there were about one million hits. It’s unreal.”

The reactions have also been overwhelming. Many of them citing nostalgic memories of “coming home” and “good times.” Michael received touching messages from viewers saying they started crying while looking at his photos — all of them happy tears.

“There was a doctor who contacted me who said he showed my photographs to Alzheimer’s patients,” Michael says. “And what they did, much to his surprise, was it started a dialogue between the patient and the doctor. These images would trigger an emotion or a memory, and it was one of the first times these people were coherent. So I’m clearly touching very deep nerves and cords, and that was not my original intent.”

“Overall, this entire process thrills me, and it fills my heart,” Michael admits. “It just fills my heart to put this out there for everyone, and they enjoy it.”

Visit Michael’s photostream to see more of his photography.

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