MELVIN DURAI'S AMUZING LIFE
"USELESS STUFF CLUTTERS OUR HOMES"

     I live in a small apartment, one that used to be a lot bigger. At least it seemed a lot bigger, before I accumulated all kinds of stuff.

     I'm not sure where all the stuff came from. Perhaps my landlord sneaked in when I was away and stored his junk here. I should be charging him rent.

     My stuff includes dozens of glasses I've never used, a small aquarium supporting no visible life, and a weight-lifting bench that's quickly evolving into a storage shelf.

     But my stuff is nothing compared to many people's. Some people live in large houses and own so much stuff, they often have to spend days searching for their children. If you're suicidal and can't hire Dr. Kevorkian, just visit one of these homes and jerk open a closet. But be warned: It could be weeks before they find your body.

     In America and most wealthy nations, accumulating stuff is one of the most popular hobbies. People love to shop and they also love to collect things. You name it and someone's collecting it: books, mugs, plates, antiques, shoes and heads of wild animals.

     People also like to save junk, often for no apparent reason than to give the trash man a break.

     A friend of mine has saved every greeting card she ever received. Some day, when she's old and gray, she'll have enough time to take them out, spread them in front of her, and wonder whether she was once on drugs.

     Many people can't seem to distinguish between good stuff and bad stuff. Good stuff is stuff you use. A television is good stuff, especially during football season. A satellite dish is good stuff, especially during football season. And a couch is good stuff, especially during football season.

     Bad stuff is stuff you're saving just in case. Examples include:

     ---Cardboard boxes: You save these in case you move, in case you run out of firewood and in case your mother-in-law needs a place to stay.

     ---Fancy china and silverware: You keep these in storage just in case you get a sudden visit from the pope. If Bill Clinton happens to visit, he gets the crummy stuff. Your friends and family -- people you care about -- also get the second-rate plates.

     ---Ill-fitting clothes: You have a large wardrobe and half the clothes haven't fit you since 1972. But you're saving them just in case that miracle diet works. Or your grandchildren take a sudden liking to polyester.

     ---Exercise machines: They're in your basement, keeping all those spiders in shape. They looked really appealing in those television ads, when someone else was doing the sweating. You thought the fat would just disappear, but the only thing that disappeared was your money.

     ---Books: Many of them you haven't read -- you're too busy searching for your children -- and the others you'll never read again. But they look good on your shelf and make you look smart. It's better than displaying your diplomas. And who knows, maybe someday John Grisham will be considered the 20th century's Shakespeare. Soon after they give the Nobel Peace Prize to Saddam Hussein.

     It would be smarter to sell all the stuff we don't use and give the money to the needy. After all, as everybody knows, we can't take this stuff with us when we die.

     And even if we could, why would we?