I own maybe half of the 50 things every guy is supposed to have

 

The folks at a website called CoolMaterial.com put together a list of "50 Things Every Guy Should Own." I stumbled across it recently and went down the list counting how many of the suggested items I actually have.

It was difficult to come up with an exact number because, in many cases, we have an item, but it's either more Terry's than mine or it's not really exactly what they're talking about.

Suffice it to say I only own about half of the stuff they think I should own.

Here's the complete list. I've bolded the items I have.

1. A plain white t-shirt (I have plenty of plain white t-shirts, but they're talking about the kind of plain white T's that cost $50...I get a 6-pack of Hanes for 20 bucks.)

2. A suit

3. A navy blazer

4. A tie (I have several)

5. A bathrobe (as Jim Gaffigan once said, "A robe? What, are we about to shoot a porno?")

6. Slippers

7. Dress shoes

8. Sneakers (I grew up calling them "tennis shoes," but same thing.)

9. A watch

10. A gray hoodie (I have gray hoodies, but not a plain one like they're talking about.)

11. Denim jeans

12. Boots

13. A leather belt

14. Good sunglasses (I have a prescription pair. Is that "good?")

15. A pair of cufflinks

16. A pair of work gloves

17. A backpack

18. Tote bags

19. Suitcase and/or carry-on

20. Headphones

21. Refillable water bottle

22. A deck of cards (We have decks of cards. It's just that none are mine.)

23. A pocket knife (I had one when I was 9 and a Cub Scout, but that doesn't count.)

24. A lighter

25. A leather wallet

26. An umbrella

27. A toiletry bag

28. Bottle opener/wine key

29. Kitchen knives (These are Terry's, not mine.)

30. Proper glassware (same)

31. Your favorite coffee mug (my black Cleveland Orchestra mug)

32. A dedicated coffee maker (It belongs to both of us, but it was a Christmas present for me.)

33. A secret ingredient you use in dishes to impress guests (Good idea, but I don't cook.)

34. Your favorite bottle of whiskey (Yeah, not a spirits guy.)

35. A cast iron skillet

36. A versatile cookbook

37. A grill (We have one, but I'm rarely the one using it.)

38. A good office chair

39. Stationary (I didn't realize we were living in 1947.)

40. A good pen

41. A notebook/journal

42. A camera

43. A toolbox (So, yeah...we of course have one, but I'll admit it's way more my wife's than mine.)

44. Power tools (same)

45. Exercise equipment

46. A piece of art that means something to you (Man, I did way better on the first part of this list than I'm doing on the second.)

47. A copy of your favorite book (I have many!)

48. A quality coffee table book (I feel like I would need a coffee table first.)

49. A bike

50. A passport (A good way to end. This makes me feel a little better.)

I maintain the illusion of control through the use of daily checklists

As much as I like to think of myself as someone who handles ambiguity well, I find my left brain demanding structure, order and a general feeling that "I've got this," even when I don't, in fact, "got this," and even if I don't quite know what "this" even is at any given time.

Thus, I play this game with myself whereby I make to-do lists. Every day of my life, virtually without exception, I have a to-do list. Sometimes I have two to-do lists: one for home and one for work. And as I tackle individual tasks, I check them off the list.

If you are a list maker, I don't need to tell you the immense satisfaction (it's almost a rush, really) of checking things off the list. When you get to the end of the day and every box is ticked off, you are master of your universe, king/queen of your domain.

Or at least that's what I tell myself. In reality, for every one thing I check off, a part of me knows there are five other things I should be doing that don't fit comfortably on a list.

"Love wife," for instance. I don't put that on the list because, you know, it's just something you do, in ways both tangible and intangible.

"Enjoy nature." It would feel silly putting that on the list and then saying to myself, "From 12:35 to 12:40, I'm going to stand in our backyard and enjoy nature."

The truly meaningful things in life are not things you "complete." You can't write them next to a checkbox and then "do" them in a way that suggests you're ever finished.

I know this to be true. Yet I don't want it to be true because it causes two things to happen, neither of which is particularly enjoyable:

(A) I start to think my insignificant to-do's are just a way to keep from making the effort to really live.

(B) I take less pleasure in those checkmarks that usually give me so much satisfaction.

Yes, eventually the grass needs to be cut, the laundry needs to get done, and the oil needs to be changed. Those things aren't going away, and part of being a responsible adult is ensuring they're taken care of. But they're not a substitute for "living," however you define it.

Which brings me to the illustration at the top of this post from one of the popular Frog and Toad children's books. In this particular story, Toad makes a list of everything he wants to do that day, including "wake up" and "go to sleep."

At one point, a strong wind comes by and Toad's list blows away. "Help!" he cries, "my list is blowing away! What will I do without my list?"

Frog suggests they run and catch the list, but Toad points out he cannot do that because "running after my list is not one of the things that I wrote on my list of things to do."

One time this story was brought up in our family text chat to point out how much like Toad I am and to (gently) make fun of me. I laughed right along with everyone else because, let's face it, I am him.

But I get it, Toad. Oh boy, do I get it. Without the list, there is paralysis. It's laughable, I know, but it's also true.

I could probably use a Frog in my life, though I'm not sure whether I would need him to chase after my list or show me I don't need the list in the first place.

Maybe both.

I must have my to-do list every week

One of the things I do every Sunday afternoon is create my to-do list for the coming week.

It is exactly as it sounds: a list of things I want to accomplish over the next seven days.

I do it every Sunday not only because that's the start of the new week, but also because making my weekly list is always on my Sunday to-do list.

Yes, creating a list is on my list.

And I do whatever the list says, no matter what. How else am I going to enjoy the sublime pleasure of checking a task off the list once it's complete?

This may sound a bit compulsive, and I suppose it is, but checklists are my tool of choice to bring some sort of order to what is otherwise constant chaos swirling around me.

My home and work lives are built largely around Microsoft OneNote, a tool that among many other things creates excellent and easy-to-manage checklists.

When I accomplish a task, I check it off the list. It makes me feel better. It ensures I don't forget things.

Because otherwise, believe me, I would forget things. My mind is whatever you call the opposite of a steel trap.

Things fall into and out of it all the time.

If a thing falls into it and I write it down or type it into my phone, it gets retained. And in the case of stuff to do, it gets done.

I admire people who think to themselves, "You know what? This week I need to wash the floor and renew my car registration," and then they just remember to DO it. It sounds simple, but I cannot do that. I must remind myself of everything.

You will not be at all surprised to hear that, at this moment, there is a small notepad to my immediate left that includes this entry: "Write blog post."

I am about to check off that entry, and I will be smiling as I do it.

10 things I never realized would make me so happy

(1) The first cup of coffee in the morning

(2) Sitting and contentedly watching your child play a sport or engage in a school activity

(3) Mozart, Beethoven and Tchaikovsky

(4) My wife's laugh

(5) The second cup of coffee in the morning

(6) Checking off every item on my weekly to-do list

(7) Having a few hours to myself with no appointments or other commitments

(8) A freshly mowed lawn (I'm talking about when it's MY lawn, of course, not someone else's)

(9) Cleaning out the top dresser drawer where I keep a little bit of everything

(10) You're expecting me to say the third cup of coffee in the morning here, aren't you? Well, I'm not going to say it. Because the FOURTH cup of coffee makes me way happier than the third, so I'm going with that. No, I don't know why, but it's my blog and my list, and therefore I reserve the right to throw logic out the window.