There are a number of cameras at our house. I think we counted seven the other day. In a house with two humans, I am sure that this number might seem small to a professional photographer; I am equally sure that it seems enormous to those of you who rarely take pictures. I won't bother explaining the details of all seven cameras. I mention them only to point out that my husband it seems also struggles to get rid of things. He is currently debating whether or not he should keep a Nikon F100 that he purchased recently. In the middle of telling me about his internal strife over the matter yet again, (I don't mind listening - I have the same battle, just over a different camera) he shared with me that he was surprised I had not brought up his unwillingness to sell a camera he seldom uses on my blog. I must confess that I had not even made the connection. So, we do ALL struggle to get rid of some things.
As we count the cameras at our house, I am reminded that our one car garage is home to one of three cars and a whole family of bicycles, five to be exact. Three cars makes sense when you think about one being in the shop and the two of us working on separate sides of town. Or at least, we justify the third car (the Jeep Wrangler in the garage) any number of ways. But five bicycles? We two really do have five two-wheelers. Two for me, three for him.
There is a running joke in my husbands family that he loves multiples of ANYTHING. He once went to Sam's and came home with four, FOUR, boxes of trash bags. (I wasn't even cleaning anything out!) One Christmas he recieved more than one copy of E. T. (the movie); I think he got three? My father in-law brought up the fact that that my husband has always liked more than one of things; we all had a good laugh at this. After almost five years of marriage (at the time), this, however, was news to me. Then I started to connect the signs: trash bags, batteries, bicycles, sets of DVD's and CD's, cameras, cars... My husband is a closet multiple freak, and I lovingly endulge him at times as I realize that he is right; more than one means fewer trips to the store.
Yet, this neglects the true concept of multiples. Buying more than one of something at a good price, knowing you will use it, within reason, is sensible. (Four Sam's sized boxes of trash bags is still up for debate at our SMALL house.) Buying more than one of something just because you can may be pushing it. I believe that we all suffer from multiple-ism to some degree. Look around your home, do you have a set of anything? It seems simple enough; dishes, flatware, candles, socks, even socks come in pairs. I know you will tell me that those sets are so things can match. Where does this convention come from? Why must we match? What about multiples that don't serve this purpose, like collections, or sets of vases and candle holders? We like these things because the "look good" together. Maybe there's a mathematical explaination for our desire to have more than one of things; maybe there's a real reason that we desire sets of items.
When I was in undergrad. studying ceramics, another guy in our studio used multiples of items in Fibonocci numbers to decorate his pots. He felt that this natural sequence was appealing to people. I believe he was right. Fibonocci can be found in many things in Nature. God programmed us to patterns; He wrote His law on our hearts. We, therefore, have the natural, innate tendency to things in multiples and sets.
However, what in the world do two people need three cars, five bicycles, and seven cameras for? We can't possibly drive, ride and shoot with all of them at the same time, or can we...