If your hobby is collecting something, you can really get deep into the weeds (and deep into your wallet)

This was my collection of Atari 2600 game cartridges about a month ago, when I had something like 102 of them. The collection is larger now, and if I have my way, it's going to get much larger.

About a year ago, I wrote here about the fact that I had acquired an Atari 2600+ and was enjoying playing the primitive video games of my youth.

I still play those games on our basement TV, but now that pastime has evolved into an honest to goodness hobby: collecting old Atari 2600 cartridges.

I use the world "old' intentionally because, believe it or not, there are many people in 2026 designing "homebrew" games for the venerable 2600, a console that came out in 1977 that still holds a place in the hearts of Gen Xers like me.

My focus is the games that were commercially released during the golden era of the Atari 2600 from '77 through roughly 1991.

The numbers vary, but according to this list on Wikipedia, a whopping 472 games "were released during the system's lifetime." Many of those are easy and relatively inexpensive to get your hands on (here I'm thinking of the games many, many of us played back then like Space Invaders, Pac-Man, Combat, etc.)

eBay, Facebook Marketplace, retro video game stores and garage sales are havens for these "staple" cartridges. In most cases, sellers are more interested in having you take these ancient games off their hands than they are in making any real profit from them.

As it turns out, though, there are many other Atari games considered rare or scarce that can only be had if you're willing to shell out $100 or more.

One is Crazy Climber, a popular arcade game that was adapted for the Atari 2600 but offered only to members of the Atari Fan Club. Not many copies were made back in the 80s, so not many are available now.

My go-to spot for buying old cartridges is Video Game Nirvana in Madison, Ohio. The owner, RJ, is a great guy and a fount of classic gaming knowledge. He has one copy of Crazy Climber in his store, and the price tag is $150.

I'm determined to have it...eventually.

Initially my intention was to acquire every commercially available cartridge for the Atari 2600 over a period of several years. But already I've realized that's an unlikely feat for me.

For one thing, some of those games are twice the price of Crazy Climber (or more), which seems pretty excessive. Then there's the fact that I'm not sure where I would even store 472 Atari cartridges.

So I think that, with the possible exception of Crazy Climber, I'm just going to focus on games that are $50 or less that I know I'll want to play. That should limit my collection to around 300 cartridges, which is still borderline ridiculous but at least defensible.

"Defensible," that is, to my wife, who has been kind enough to indulge this little passion of mine so far.

If someday I come home and find my Atari consoles and cartridges in trash bags on the curb, that will be a sign I probably crossed the line at some point.

I'm thinking of taking up a new hobby: Napping

From early December through mid-February, I worked five days a week from home while my company's headquarters building underwent some long-overdue renovations.

I wrote here about the ups and downs of that experience. For me, someone who normally goes into the office every day regardless of company policy, it was mostly about the downs. I generally found myself too distracted to be as productive as I am when in the office.

But there was one thing I did enjoy about working from my upstairs office every day, and that was the opportunity to take 10- or 15 minute power naps.

I haven't been much of a napper since I was 3 years old, but I've come to appreciate the value of an occasional mid-afternoon snooze.

More than once during my extended work-from-home experience, I would walk away from my laptop and go straight into our spare room, where I would lay down on the bed and catch a little shuteye.

Invariably I would wake up refreshed and go right back to working, feeling much better for having grabbed those 40 winks.

I don't generally get enough sleep in the first place, especially on days when I go to the gym. If I get more than 7 hours in a given night, that's a rare treat.

The result is occasional mid-day fatigue that is best remedied with a nap.

The problem is that I don't usually want to nap, even when my body needs it. Being a task-driven, goal-oriented individual, I'm more about getting things done than I am about sleeping. Given the choice, I would rather knock something off my to-do list than nap.

But sometimes the temptation is too great, and like I said, I now understand the pleasures of a quick 2pm doze to energize myself for the rest of the work day.

Now that I'm back in the office full time, though, it simply doesn't happen like it did before. At least not on weekdays.

Thus, I'm going to make playing the saxophone and napping my official weekend hobbies.

Eventually I hope to get good enough to do both at the same time.

Allowing your spouse the financial freedom to pursue a hobby

For many years, Terry told me I needed some sort of hobby or side project to distract my mind from the day-to-day grind of work and family.

I finally took her up on it late last year when I got back into playing the saxophone. I practice almost every day and really enjoy it.

But it is not an inexpensive pursuit.

Since Christmas she has allowed me to buy:

• The best tenor sax I've ever owned ($2,000)
• A new mouthpiece for it ($325)
• Reeds (an ongoing expense that so far has totaled maybe 50 bucks)
• Various instructional books as suggested by my teacher Ed (well over $100)
• A new neck strap ($12)
• Accessories that include a reed case, swabs to clean the mouthpiece/neck/body, and other items I'm probably not even considering at the moment (again, probably $100 or more)

Granted, much of this comes from "extra" money we've recently gleaned from various sources. But still, we have a mortgage, kids, etc. As CFO of the family, it was well within her right to veto any of these purchases.

Yet she let them all go, because she's wonderful.

You can't put a price on your partner's happiness. Despite what I consider to be slow progress in my playing, the sax is a source of contentment for me.

As far as I'm concerned, Terry can do whatever she wants for herself, whether it's related to crafting or any other hobby she wants to take up.

Having to listen to me squeak out diminished 7th arpeggios and scales for hours on end has earned her at least that much.

I actually have hobbies now and that's an accomplishment

I have long lamented my inability to relax. It's not that I feel constantly stressed out (that actually happens relatively infrequently). It's just that I always have this drive to accomplish something, to check something off the to-do list, to make the most of my time.

You could argue very convincingly that relaxing is making the most of your time, and that as humans we need our relaxation. I just hate to have chores/tasks hanging over my head, so I'm always running to get stuff done.

Or at least that's how it was for many years. I'm still like that to some degree, just not as hardcore as I used to be. Ever since I finished my master's degree last summer, I've made an effort to engage in true leisure time activities.

And I have a few now. Like playing my saxophone, for example.

I bought a gorgeous new tenor sax recently (I'll blog about it sometime soon), and I'm enjoying regular playing and practicing time. Over the holiday break I read a book that is apparently much revered in saxophone circles called "Developing a Personal Saxophone Sound." It was a revelation to me.

The book goes into very technical detail on how to create the sort of tone that professional players make. I never understood how they did it until now, and it slowly dawned on me that in 41 years of playing the instrument, I learned only how to blow into the instrument and finger notes.

Only now am I learning to make music and really control the horn. It's a long process, but I'm enjoying it.

I'm also reading other nonfiction. I made it through Hew Strachan's 350-page "The First World War" over the break and am currently enjoying "The War Poems of Wilfred Owen," which my daughter Elissa and her boyfriend Mark gave me for Christmas.

I also walk quite a bit, as I've mentioned, and am continuing my immersion into the core classical music repertoire.

None of these activities gets the dishes washed, the bathroom cleaned, or the laundry done, and that's a good thing. They feed the soul, which is what we all need.

I will not, however, collect stamps. Tried that back in the early 80s and it's not for me. But classical music CDs? I have a couple hundred of those, to the point that the CD rack in the basement is ready to tip over.

I couldn't be happier about it.

I have no idea how to relax

It's Saturday afternoon as I type this and I don't know what to do with myself.

Which is a novel thing. Normally if I'm not at work or sleeping or running or engaged in some other part of my daily routine, I'm checking things off the to-do list. Running errands. Completing some household chore.

The point is, I'm always doing. And I'm afraid I haven't the first clue how not to do.

So far today I've done my running and Bible reading, I got the oil changed in the car, I went to the market and picked up a bunch of produce, I made my weekly run to CVS, I dropped off some clothes at the dry cleaner, I emptied the dishwasher, I vacuumed the living room and our bedroom, and I cleaned up the kitchen.

Other than helping Jack nail down his memory verse for Sunday School, I have nothing left on my to-do list today. And there are three more hours before Melanie and I leave to attend a hockey game tonight.

That's three hours available to do anything I want. So what do I do? I sit down to write this blog post. Not because I particularly want or need to (I'm writing this on February 28 and you're reading it in early April...I'm way, way ahead of the game right now, blog-wise). I'm doing it because I feel like it's my duty. Like it's another thing that has to get done. That doesn't seem right.

What would a normal, non-task-oriented person do? Probably relax. Take a nap. Read a book. Watch some TV. I could do any of those things, but I know that while I did them, there would be a very vocal part of my brain saying to me, "Think of everything you can get done in three hours. You're wasting the time. YOU'RE WASTING THE TIME! GET UP AND ACCOMPLISH SOMETHING!"

Which I suppose is the problem. Relaxation is accomplishing something. Your mind and body need downtime.

But I guess when you're married and a homeowner and a parent, you just come to assume that there's always something that needs to be done. And right now, other than washing the kitchen floor or something, I suppose, there's nothing urgent left on the To Be Done List.

And that makes me nervous. I assume I'm forgetting something.

Terry tells me I should get a hobby. I do have a hobby in running, I guess. But I do that as much out of obligation as I do for enjoyment. Gotta stay ahead of the family history of heart disease!

In the end, I know she's right. I definitely have to learn to relax.

I know what I'll do: I'll enroll in a course on relaxation. I'm sure they exist. And maybe there'll be homework. And class notes! I can buy a binder or something and keep everything organized. I can make a weekly relaxation to-do list: "Things to Do to Relax."

I will get everything done first and I'll be the best student in the class. It'll be great!

I'm totally going to be the world's most intense relaxer.