Yesterday my boyfriend and I stopped by our building’s laundromat. We weren’t dropping off a load of laundry but instead were checking to see if there were any new freebies our neighbors had left in the foldable table next to the snack vending machine in the corner- mainly things they wanted to part with but didn’t wish to throw away. So far our perusing has rewarded us with a couple of picture frames, a mug tower stand topped with a rooster, bowls, small plates, and on this particular visit, a copy of Being John Malkovich, the screenplay by Charlie Kaufman.
Ever since moving to Philadelphia I have become a bit preoccupied with taking advantage of all the things people are willing to give away. It’s not as if this concept is unique to Philly of course, there are innumerable thrifty, sharp-eyed scavengers in any given corner of the world, either browsing their Craigslist’s free page or walking around neighborhood streets picking up furniture, adopted memorabilia, or outdated tools.
In our case we’ve been fortunate to outfit our new apartment with mostly free furniture and knick knacks that belonged to friends, faceless strangers, and people from my boyfriend’s grad program. I feel that we have introduced these ‘other’ things into our home in a way you take in a rescued kitten. They’re scruffy, spunky, defiant, and it all makes you love them even more.
These discarded things are unique in so many other ways than something that you buy straight from Ikea or Target, even if the found good was manufactured by them. Each item comes with a history we’ll never know. What kind of tv shows did the red couch watch? Are there any habits these things carried out? Do they ferry over their previous owners’ energy, as a friend once mentioned? If so, do those energies battle it out with our own or do they meld into one essence? Who knows if there’s anything mystical to these things but I like to think they have a personality.
All of this got me thinking about my own move to a new place, in this case Philadelphia. Countries, cities, towns, houses, they all do the same thing. They take in these strange new creatures who have seen, done, felt, and believe in who knows what and why. In much the same way we are freebies that places take in. We make up the construct of a city or town and the place takes us in without knowing the details of our past experiences. And that’s how our lives nestle into the multitude of layers that make up a culture.
