The Best Tools

Growing up, my mom didn’t have much money. As such, pursuing hobbies meant making due with what she could afford.

Hockey gear was second hand and a few seasons out of date. My bike was a rust gold 3-speed that was neither the racing or BMX bike that I desired. I had skis that were a cross between racing and traditional, and not really good at either, all the while wearing jogging pants and an acid-wash jean jacket in competitions.

Hobbies can be expensive and my mom did a fantastic job of providing opportunities and supporting me with limited means. I don’t fault her in the slightest.

As an adult who now has the financial means, it’s quite possible I have over-compensated.

I spend days researching things to purchase. I scour the best-of-the-best lists. I watch YouTube videos. What are the best features to have? What do the pros use? In some ways, we’re spoiled by the availability of information. Pre-internet, I’d be picking up Consumer Reports magazine.

I end up having mixed feelings about it. Am I spending more money than I need to on something just because everybody else thinks it’s the best? Or am I truly spending money on quality that will last a lifetime? Am I spending money just to feed the capitalist system or am I buying something that will actually make my life better?

I bought an expensive espresso machine back in 2017. I can make a latte in about one minute, from grind to pull to froth to pour. Nearly eight years later, it’s still running solid.

It’s easy to think that a pourover or french press setup would’ve been dirt cheap in comparison and given me the same level of appreciation for coffee. And yet, that expensive machine provides a lot of joy every time I use it. I fully intend to have it for life.

For the most part, I’ve been happy with my things and when I’ve had a bit of buyer’s remorse, it’s usually because I bought something where I didn’t put in the research and felt like it would be good enough.

On the opposite end of the monetary scale, I’ve been getting into cooking more. (Well, more than a box of pasta and a jar of sauce.) Having the best tools in the kitchen has made cooking more fun. I like the weight of my pots and pans. I like the spoon rest. I like the salt box.

Diderot might warn me not to over-consume. I notice when my spending on things starts to go up. The salt box was an unnecessary purchase. The plastic container I was using before was working just fine. “But it wasn’t wood and black ceramic to match my decor,” I whine.

As the world seems to be taking a bee-line to a recession, I’m slowly divesting myself of a number of possessions that I no longer need, resorting to “buy nothing” groups to avoid contributing to landfills and perhaps help others avoid the Diderot effect.

It’s hard for me not to feel at least somewhat overwhelmed at the need for humanity to slow down on consumption but see a world hellbent on using up every last cell of energy on this planet for things we don’t need.

While they say “things” won’t make you happy, there is the short term burst of joy before hedonistic adaptation settles in. I’ll try to be mindful of that before I go on my next Diderot-inspired spending spree.