Getting Off the Ground

Photo courtesy Flickr

When I turned thirty, a wise older friend taught me to choose clothing with travel in mind. That one tip turned five feet of wardrobe inventory into two, eliminated ironing, simplified laundry, and left me unafraid of wet or snowy weather. I spent three times as much money on most garments and cut their cost per use to ten percent of what I had been paying.

Later I was struck by the sight of a frail, elegant senior woman pulling a rolling case around a department store. The case was such a rational alternative to a twenty-pound shoulder bag that I went straight to the hiking co-op and bought myself a carry-on sized wheeled backpack. The wheeled case and a pair of walking shoes replaced my car.

When it was time to climb onto a plane, the only major change in my life was the zip code. Adding a laptop and hot WiFi means now I can bring my zip code along wherever I go.

A recent visit to two young households in the heart of San Francisco reinforced my instinct to downsize in place. My hosts appear to have no interest in furnishings as status symbols or ends in themselves. Things are chosen for function. Digital and live resources provide cultural support.

Living close to the heart of a city, even a well-designed tiny one like Port Angeles, Washington (laid out by the same French urban designer who invented Washington, D.C.), means that one can keep living quarters as simple and flexible as a dorm or hotel room. Though this choice is not for everyone, coupled with ultra-light high tech furnishings it supports independence and productive knowledge work.

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