Recently I moved from my small rental house in West Columbia to a fairly large 2-bedroom apartment in Houston. I'm not a man who thrives on change or transition, so as you might expect it was tough for me. I'm having a period of adjustment. And adjustment is hard -- especially when it comes to getting rid of some of the 32-some-odd-years of crap that I've managed to collect.

But as tough as throwing out that cat-shredded chair and those broken appliances might be, I have to admit that it's somewhat cathartic. There's something sort of cleansing about the whole process. It's very Zen. Open a box, separate the hypothetical wheat from the chaff, take a deep breath and live on.

I'm amazed at how much garbage I hold on to. I have things that are broken and useless, software that's so old it won't run on any existing computer system, pieces of equipment that are missing components and components that are missing equipment - both of which are long gone! All this rummaging, sorting, unpacking and tossing is kind of therapeutic. It makes me think. It makes me ask inevitable questions about the nature of the universe. Questions such as, "Why did I keep all this crap?"

So why DO I keep it? Do I have some pathological need to be surrounded by useless junk? Is it sentimentality run amok? What causes me to be so meticulous about holding on that that little doo-hickey adapter but so careless that I've misplaced the piece of equipment it goes with? Why do I keep JUNK?

I think that sentimentality does play a role here. When I was packing this stuff for the move my girlfriend Kara became a little annoyed with the fact that I would pause on certain items, reflect on them, relay a story about where they came from and what they do and what they mean to me. I would see her eyes roll and hear a slight, exasperated sigh escape her lips. She was focused on "getting this done." I was busy trouncing along in a world of nostalgic memories. So yeah, I admit that I hold on to certain things out of an over-developed sense of sentiment.

But there's something else at work entirely when it comes to a couple of plastic crates full of miscellaneous electronics and parts. There's not much in the way of nostalgia in there. That particular bit of clutter serves a practical purpose -- it's the "just in case" collection.

I'm a "contingency" kind of guy. I'm not much for planning in general, but I'll admit that I always have a back-up plan in the back of my mind anyway. I'd rather improvise and free associate than meticulously plan and think out everything in advance. My best work and greatest accomplishments have come from a sort of "dive in and swim" technique. But today, in writing, I'm going to admit to everyone that I have a secret... I always have a back-up plan.

That's ultimately what the bins of wires and parts and adapters and clutter are all about. They're a back-up plan. They're for contingency.

Have you just bought a new computer and you're missing a power cable? I have your back. Need an adapter to go from a stereo output to a mono input? I'm your man. Need a cable splitter so you can run cable to your bedroom? Who's your buddy?

So clutter can be a good thing. Honest. I mean, it's not like it's laying around in drifts all over my apartment, waiting for some small child to haplessly wander into it and sink to their doom. It's neat, well organized, easily burrowed through. I've only lost one goat and a couple of Sherpas in there.

I may never be able to clear out ALL of the clutter in my life. I'd like to... believe me! How much simpler would life be if all I had was a laptop and a box of Fruity-Ohs to worry about? How much money would I save if I could rent an efficiency apartment and have room to spare? How stress-free would moving be if I could cram all of my belongings into a backpack? I'd be a free man! My life would be light and airy and full of butterflies wings and happy rainbow songs.

But that wouldn't be me, now would it? I'm the contingency guy -- somewhat materialistic and happy to have the problem of "Where do I put my big screen TV?" So "Zen-like simplicity" may always elude me. But at least I have a book about it somewhere.

My grandfather used to say, "I never got a thing I didn't ask for." I live my life by this deceptively simple little phrase. At first, it seems sort of obvious -- a "no brainer." If you want something, you should ask for it.

See, that's where my grandfather's genius comes in. This simple, soft spoken man knew a thing or two about human nature. And buried in this 9-word phrase is a statement about the duality of life, the complexity of the universe, and the need to take responsibility for our actions.

The obvious stuff is right on the surface. If you want something, ask for it. What's the worst that can happen? Someone will say "no?" In that case, you're no further along then you were before, but you're also no further behind. You have exactly what you had BEFORE you asked the question.

On the other hand, they might say "yes." In which case, now you've made a step forward, you have something you wanted, and the price was putting a tiny bit of your ego and pride on the line and asking for it.

Usually when you ask for something, however, the answer is more along the lines of, "You can have it if you pay for it." Now we're getting into some of that universal complexity I mentioned earlier. This response is just a way for the OTHER person to ask for what THEY want. It can be translated as: "This is my price for what you want. Will you give me what I want in exchange for what you want?"

Now the two of you have established the nature of a temporary relationship. You want something, they want something, and now you must both come to an agreement on the worth of your wants. Is that piece of candy worth a dollar? Are you willing to trade that computer for a hundred bucks? When the two of you have come to an agreement on what constitutes "a fair exchange" you'll both get what you were asking for (notice, though, that I didn't say "EQUAL exchange..." In this case, that means that one of you was also "asking" for a "profit." See? Complex, huh?).

Ok, I can hear the groans and sighs, the comments of "C'mon, Kev, this is basic economics." Sure... that's true. Of course, my grandfather's statement goes well beyond the bounds of supply and demand. Half the time, we go through life not even realizing that we're PAYING for things we could have gotten FREE. On top of that, we often allow all sorts of inconveniences and injustices to occur in our lives that could have been avoided all together if we simply asked enough questions.

I have a sad example. Sad, because it happened to ME.

I have this thing about the phone. I don't want people having my home number. There is that upper echelon of family and friends from whom I'm happy to get a ring. But then there are the sales calls, the telemarketers, and the people and organizations seeking donations over the phone (a major no-no, by the way... never donate money over the phone. That's a column for another time!). These are people I DO NOT want to have my number.

The problem is, they always seemed to get it. And so I would have the standard phone-call-at-dinner situation every night. And it didn't seem to matter if my number changed, they always found me.

When I moved this past month, however, I decided to ask for something I wanted. When I set up my phone service, I asked, "Can we make sure my number isn't listed? Like...anywhere?"

"No problem," was the reply. They informed me that the privacy act gives me the right to request that all my contact information be kept confidential. That's cool, but it's not what makes this story sad. I started thinking about it and I realized that it isn't the phone company I have to worry about -- it's all the OTHER people I give my number to on a regular basis. For example, when I called to transfer some of my services and subscriptions, they asked for my phone number. In the past, I always just gave it without really thinking. This time, however, I declined. And you know what? They accepted that answer! In a way, I was asking to be kept out of the "machine" of telemarketing and sales calls, and they said, "ok!"

That's what makes that story sad - I was an idiot for not thinking of it sooner! Your contact information is as private as you want it to be. Don't be fooled by retailers, magazines or anyone into thinking that giving away your information is required. Ask them to respect your privacy.


Ok... getting what you want... that's one part of my grandfather's words of wisdom. But I mentioned "duality," and so far I've only elaborated on one concept. So here's the other side of the coin -- responsibility.

See, my grandfather didn't limit himself on when he'd use this phrase. He'd say it as a proclamation of success when he got something he wanted, he'd say it as advice when I or someone else complained that we didn't have something, and he'd also say it when he or someone else had screwed up and paid the consequences for it.

It became a statement of responsibility. "I never got a thing I didn't ask for." This time, you can read it as, "I just got a speeding ticket for driving too fast." Or maybe, "I got punched in the mouth because I called that guy a name." Or "I got arrested because I was caught smoking a joint." In other words, your actions were asking for trouble and you got it.

People hate to take responsibility. I'm as guilty of that as anyone. I tend to think of myself as the hero of this little action/drama/comedy we call life, and that means that in the end I'm "justified." But the truth is, we're all the main character of this story. None of us is a bit player, we're all responsible for what we do. And so, the consequences of our actions come to us because we asked for them.

So there it is, the duality of the universe splayed before you in a simple, 9-word phrase. It's simple but complex - just like ALL great advice. And you might think you've nailed me - "I didn't ask for your advice," you might say. But you're wrong! You read this, which means you wanted to take something away from it (knowledge, entertainment, something) and you got what you asked for! See how that works? Complicated, ain't it?

Believe me, I never got a THING that I didn't ask for. And neither have you.

J. Kevin Tumlinson is the Editor for ViewOnline Magazine at www.viewonline.com. He holds a Masters in Education and has won numerous awards for writing fiction and non-fiction. You may reach him via e-mail at kevin@viewonline.com. He's asking you to.

There are certain truths that are universal. They crop up in every culture, regardless of religion, creed, race, or preference in toothpaste. "A buttered piece of toast will fall butter side down," that's one. "If it's too good to be true, it probably is," a cliche' for a reason! Here's one that's heavy on my mind these days... "Moving sucks."

There's a reason God punished the Israelites by making them move for 40 years. Can you imagine? Every day you pick up your stuff, shove it into shoe boxes and garbage bags and hike on over the next rise to a deluxe apartment near the Dumpster (TM!). What punishment could be worse than that? The fires of Hades would seem like a sauna in comparison.

Over the past two months, I've been moving... a lot. I've moved not only from my house in West Columbia to an apartment in Houston, but also from my home office to an office building. But the fun doesn't stop there! At the exact same time that I'm cramming MY stuff into a UHAUL (TM!), I'm also moving my MOTHER! So, friends and neighbors, I have tasted the Israelite Curse and found it bitter and unsavory!

I'm too thick-headed to pay movers. No, no... one look at the price tag and I say, "That's crazy! I'd rather just move it all myself than PAY someone to move it!" And then, of course, I shill out a few hundred bucks on truck rentals, gas money for friends, meals for those who help me, etc. Before you know it, I've spent TWICE as much on moving as I would have before and it takes me a month to get it all done.

Experiences like this make me seriously consider the cons of setting fire to all my belongings and starting over elsewhere.

But there are bright sides to moving -- really! For one, the new apartment comes complete with some new neighbors who are actually very nice, and who offer the added benefit of looking after the place while I'm gone, shoo-ing people away from the cars in the parking lot, and offering the odd meal to a hungry and sweaty guy who has been moving all week. Verbose, but heartwarming, isn't it?

And in many respects, I'm moving on up ("to the East side"). My apartment is much bigger than my house was (I know! Shocking!), and it offers certain amenities that I had heretofore learned to do without. Little things like a garbage disposal, a dishwasher, and multiple bathrooms -- these are things that I never realized I needed so badly until they were gone.

So, I'm a philosophical kinda guy... what sort of Zen moment can I take from this experience? For starters, it's the first time in my life that I've been at least SOMEWHAT accepting of change. Moving into the apartment and getting out of my home office has been a HUGE change in my life, but it's also been rewarding and exciting, and I feel that it's been a chance to grow and learn a little more about life in general and me in particular. My girlfriend, Kara, has learned a lot about me, too... and she's still around so I guess I'm "live-with-able."

At any rate, I'm back in business (so to speak). My short hiatus has come to an end and I can now get back to the job of informing, entertaining, irritating and discombobulating you, my dear and faithful readers. It feels good to be home!

J. Kevin Tumlinson is the Editor for ViewOnline Magazine at www.viewonline.com. He holds a Masters in Education and has won numerous awards for writing fiction and non-fiction. You may reach him via e-mail at kevin@viewonline.com. He is very moved by your concern.