When Sally and I launched I Couldn't Throw It Out, we thought every episode would be about tossing the treasures I've saved for decades. Well… that didn't happen. A year and a half into our podcast, and I've thrown out -- what? -- a few cards and papers.
It begs the question: Is anyone out there worse at throwing things out than I am? If so, we want to hear about it. (Details below.). But until someone else speaks up, I'm claiming the title I've worked hard to earn: I am America's Worst Swedish Death Cleaner.
For anyone who missed it, The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning became a thing sometime after 2017 when the Swedish artist Margareta Magnusson published a very short book with that very long title. The gist of it: If you sort through your stuff and get rid of it while you're still lucid, then you won't torture whoever cleans up after you kick off.
Back in 2022, just before we launched I Couldn't Throw It Out, someone told Sally and me about Swedish Death Cleaning. We mentioned it in our first episode. But then I cut it – because it seemed too obscure. Oops! Mistake!
We should have realized that everyone was stuck at home during the pandemic – just like us – and they were all staring at too much stuff. So Magnusson's little book belatedly became a big bestseller. Search for it on Google, and you'll find countless testimonies to the wonders of eliminating possessions. Homes emptied! Joy achieved!
Then Amy Poehler got in on the act. Last April, she joined Magnusson as a producer of a reality TV show on Peacock, also titled The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning. In all eight episodes, Swedish experts helped savers toss their treasures.
Just like the people on the TV show, I discovered that sorting through your stuff can be all kinds of emotional. Funny, moving, surprising, upsetting… I'd go on. But I don't want to be accused of being an adjective hoarder. And – let's be clear -- Swedish Death Cleaning is not for hoarders. It does not involve mountains of dirty plastic forks that might be washed and reused someday. Hoarding is considered a serious mental illness. So, naturally, it has its own reality TV shows.
Swedish Death Cleaning, on the other hand, is for those of us with lesser issues. We save only meaningful things, carefully curated over the years. It doesn't smell bad. It doesn't look disorderly. And all we need is some good sensible Swedish help to make it disappear.
Case in point: I saved these pins since 1964 when my sister Lyn took me
to A Hard Day's Night at the Capitol Theater in Concord NH.
The big problem for me is... the final step. I can toss old clothes, appliances, even books (if I didn't love them). But when it comes to my carefully saved treasures, I can't do it. I can't donate or recycle them, or throw them out. In the Swedish cleaning tradition, you're allowed to keep a well-marked box of the things you can't toss. My box -- which I labeled with the word "Processed" -- includes everything we've discussed so far on the podcast. In other words, I did the whole process. And I've still got 24 boxes of stuff.
Some of the blame must go to genetics. My parents certainly knew each of the words in Swedish Death Cleaning. But they couldn't quite unite them. The Swedish part was no problem. With all their Danish modern furniture, they practically had Scandinavian citizenship. And "cleaning" is a famous family skill, especially when it involves dramatic thrusts of a Swiffer. But then there's the scary word in the middle: Death.
In our home, non-existence didn't exist. No one mentioned the D Word. So no one planned for it. After my parents moved to assisted living, it was unclear if one dumpster would be enough to hold the possessions that they never reduced. Of course, I salvaged what I could. I mean, did you really expect me to let go of my father's checkbook stubs from 1947, and my mother's dance cards from college parties? Seriously?
The cover of my dad's 1947 lab notes. Is the science still good? Who cares?
To compensate for the sins of the father, and the mother… I've started thinking a lot about the D Word. It began with the financial planner I met last year. He made a chart of how long our money would last, with two dots – one for my wife Cindy and one for me -- each labeled "End of Plan." Yes, there it was. Right on the flow chart. Our future non-existence. Two little dots.
The goal, I learned, is to make sure the cash doesn't run out before the End of Plan. That seems challenging. However, I have an antidote. The things I've saved in the attic, they won't disappear. They won't get spent. And that's comforting -- to have reminders of your existence. And of the times when you lived. And the friends you loved. And the angry letters from people who had enough of you. (Okay, I'm weird. I savor upsetting stuff.)
The ultimate upset: My access pass for coverage of the 2016 election.
As a digital manager, I was required to focus on the data, giving
no opinions on the outcome. Then someone walked in and said,
"Michael Small looks like his favorite puppy was just shot."
So I keep my audio interviews from my years as a celebrity reporter, my high school papers, my grandfather's long letters from a trip to Africa, my tiny plastic troll dolls, and on and on. The best I can do is to go through all of it on I Couldn't Throw It Out and hope I'm done before the End of Plan. Then whoever cleans up after me will find it nicely organized and reduced to less than a whole dumpster.
My autograph book from sixth grade. When we still believed in peace.
And in swearing: Notice the number 7734. If you turn it upside down,
you learn our sneaky way of saying what was considered a bad word.
Of course, I can't be the only one who fails at Swedish Death Cleaning. And failure loves company. So that's where you come in. If by chance you share my fatal flaw, Sally and I want to hear from you. We invite you to…
- Think of an excellent thing you can't throw out
- Try to come up with the reason why you can't throw it out
- (not required) Take a photo, if it's easy
- If you can't decide on one treasure, repeat for up to three of them
- Send it to us
When we have enough responses, we'll post a followup on this blog -- and share some of what you tell us. Who knows? When it comes to NOT throwing things out, there might be some healthy competition. Is it you or me, buddy? May the Worst Swedish Death Cleaner win!
