My 2 cents:
To borrow from Freud, sometimes a collectible is just a collectible. But not very often.
Collecting stuff is not "enjoying" it. It's trying to hang onto something, to own a piece of something, that isn't oneself. Actor becomes wealthy by making mass-market, dumb films. Actor then becomes obsessed with buying famous artworks by "serious" artists. It buys him some sort of artistic legitimacy in his own twisted mind. The real drive is his insecurity, his misplaced shame at his own success, his desire to be respected by others when he does not respect himself.
Using something can bring pleasure. I'm a long-term-thinking hedonist (as opposed to someone who is looking to live fast and die young). A good single malt Scotch is worth every silly penny it costs, for the sheer pleasure of inhaling the aroma, drinking it slowly and savoring the complexity of its flavor. A good wine offers the same, although I've derived more pleasure, in the end, from finding relatively unknown locally-made wine of top quality, than simply buying a known bottle.
A fine gun is the same: its use can bring great enjoyment. The sad reality of life is that cheap crap usually isn't as enjoyable as the good stuff, so I have to be selective, as I don't have an infinite supply of disposable income. Sometimes, I haven't been selective enough...
A good dog is even better. One builds a deep relationship with a dog, while training the dog to do his bidding. There are many fine lines, always to be straddled with utmost care.
But the bottom line is this... Improving my pistol match shooting, breaking clays, bringing home game, etc. all happen best with good equipment. Meeting challenges is the ultimate pleasure, and the good equipment involved has intrinsic beauty. But a closet full of good equipment, unused, would leave me feel empty, even sick inside. Pure collecting can be a sickness, not a pleasure. A person is not made by a simple accumulation of stuff.
To borrow from Freud, sometimes a collectible is just a collectible. But not very often.
Collecting stuff is not "enjoying" it. It's trying to hang onto something, to own a piece of something, that isn't oneself. Actor becomes wealthy by making mass-market, dumb films. Actor then becomes obsessed with buying famous artworks by "serious" artists. It buys him some sort of artistic legitimacy in his own twisted mind. The real drive is his insecurity, his misplaced shame at his own success, his desire to be respected by others when he does not respect himself.
Using something can bring pleasure. I'm a long-term-thinking hedonist (as opposed to someone who is looking to live fast and die young). A good single malt Scotch is worth every silly penny it costs, for the sheer pleasure of inhaling the aroma, drinking it slowly and savoring the complexity of its flavor. A good wine offers the same, although I've derived more pleasure, in the end, from finding relatively unknown locally-made wine of top quality, than simply buying a known bottle.
A fine gun is the same: its use can bring great enjoyment. The sad reality of life is that cheap crap usually isn't as enjoyable as the good stuff, so I have to be selective, as I don't have an infinite supply of disposable income. Sometimes, I haven't been selective enough...
A good dog is even better. One builds a deep relationship with a dog, while training the dog to do his bidding. There are many fine lines, always to be straddled with utmost care.
But the bottom line is this... Improving my pistol match shooting, breaking clays, bringing home game, etc. all happen best with good equipment. Meeting challenges is the ultimate pleasure, and the good equipment involved has intrinsic beauty. But a closet full of good equipment, unused, would leave me feel empty, even sick inside. Pure collecting can be a sickness, not a pleasure. A person is not made by a simple accumulation of stuff.
