Wednesday, June 03, 2020

Pandemic, scarcity, and frugality

One of fate's running jokes during this pandemic is that my stuff keeps breaking.

There's a sizeable rip in my winter coat that's nowhere near a seam.  A load-bearing seam in my running shoes got unsewn. A t-shirt seam ripped. One of my bed pillows tore (did you know that could even happen? I didn't know that could happen!) My kettle completely stopped working. A rung one one of my dining chairs popped out of place. My computer monitor occasionally flickers ominously, as does my TV set. My computer fan is perilously loud, even after cleaning and reseating. My sandals really need refurbishment. Both my desk and my ergonomic chair have stability issues. My ancient cell phone isn't holding charge for nearly as long as it used to. The light inside my microwave sometimes flickers for no apparent reason, and I can't figure out if this is a problem.

We're hearing a lot about scarcity of consumer goods on store shelves (in my experience, we're hearing a lot more than I'm actually seeing IRL), but all these problems I've been having highlight another type of scarcity: in-person help has become unavailable.

Apart from the t-shirt, the clothing repair tasks I described above exceed my skill. Normally, multiple people in my life and multiple businesses in my neighbourhood are able and willing to do this kind of sewing for me, but during the pandemic that isn't an option.

Even for the t-shirt repair, I didn't have the right shade of red thread, and wasn't able to actually go to a place that sells thread with the shirt to find the right shade.

For the chair repair, I lack either the strength or the dexterity. In any case, while YouTube is happy to tell me how to fix the problem, I can't make the pieces move the way they'd need to. Again, there are people IRL and businesses on the internet that would be happy to help me with this, and I can't rightfully ask any of them to come into my home.

I'm not sure whether I could carry a new computer monitor or a new TV set home from the store, and my building isn't allowing delivery people to come up to the apartments. The monitor - as well as the desk and chair - has to meet ergonomic requirements that can't be looked up online, so I have to try these things out and see if they work, or get them delivered with a particularly generous return policy.  And, of course, I couldn't move a whole desk by myself and I'm uncertain whether I can move my old TV

My computer is under warranty so normally if the fan proves to be a problem, I'd have an on-site technician come and fix it, which obviously isn't an option during the pandemic. But, at the same time, I don't want to void my warranty by attempting repairs that surpass my skill level. 

Ordering a cell phone online or buying one with curbside pickup isn't particularly difficult, but my older phone has an older SIM card, and I don't know if I can get a new SIM card during the pandemic.

My microwave is mounted over the stove, so I can't replace it myself, and I don't know if it's possible to buy a range microwave and just plug it into the wall in the interim, or if they have to be hard-wired.


In short, all these problems and potential problems are not because of supply chain issues or lack of money, it's because I'm not allowed to access other people's help.


I've internalized my origin story of my grandparents coming from war and deprivation and scarcity since before my memories even begin, so I've spent much of my life thinking about what it would be like to live in war and deprivation and scarcity.  And it never once occurred to me that scarcity would look like not being allowed to have someone sew something for me! Even on a battlefield or in a concentration camp, if needle and thread and a willing person with sewing skills are available, you're totally allowed to have them sew something for you.

I always thought scarcity would look like not having money or not having resources. But here I sit with money, thread, needles, multiple people in my own life able and willing to do the difficult sewing and multiple businesses in my immediate neighbourhood who would normally be quite happy to do it for a price that's well within my reach, but their skills are still not available to me. This was not on my catastrophizing mental list of worst-case scenarios.

***

There's also been a lot of rhetoric about how the various pandemic-related issues with acquiring material goods might actually be good for us, theorizing that it will teach people to "mend and make do" rather than automatically rush out and buy something new.


But I find myself in this situation of multiple malfunctions in the first place because of a lifetime's habit of mending and making do!

This isn't something I do out of frugality or virtue, it's simply because I hate shopping. If something I own still works, I keep using it. If I or someone near me can fix it, I fix it. If someone I know is getting rid of something I could use, I take it.

But as a result of this, many of my possessions are getting on in the years. Nearly everything I've had malfunction is over a decade old. Some are newer but not brand new (for example, the computer is three years old and the microwave is four years old), some are way older (the dining chairs might even be antiques by now - they're certainly older than me, and my grandparents owned them at once point).

If I had been in the habit of running around buying new things at the slightest provocation, all these malfunctions wouldn't have been a problem. I'd have more than one workable winter coat and more than one workable pair of running shoes. I'd have multiple workable old phones and more than the absolute minimum number of chairs I need.

But instead, I mended and made do, and never felt deprived for any of these things because I always figured I can just go out and buy a new thing when true need emerges.

And now, as true need appears to be emerging in the middle of a pandemic and I can't necessarily just go buy a new thing, I'm being lectured to mend and make do.

1 comment:

laura k said...

Geez, it's like you're having system failure. As someone who can rarely, if ever, fix anything herself, I feel for you!

If your stuff had been newer, it probably would have fallen apart sooner. The cycle of planned obsolescence has gotten insanely short. People who are running around buying new things are doing that more frequently to replace all the things that fell apart.