Sometimes my wife intends that comment as a compliment. The other day, she didn't. She used it in reference to the shared compulsion to keep things-Dad and I hate to throw anything away and we seldom do.

We are Aggregators! An Aggregator is a person who saves stuff (all kinds of stuff) for one or more of the following reasons:
      A) It has sentimental value;
      B) It could save us money sometime;
      C) It might come in handy some day;
      D) Somebody might need (want) it;
      E) "I just like it."

My father is a true Aggregator. His ability to amass miscellaneous stuff continually makes an impression on all who know him. Since early childhood, I have admired his study, basement and outbuildings-all bursting with treasures of every description. Who knows how many times those resources have saved the day by providing spare parts, preventing unnecessary spending, or simply filling a rainy day with the joys of rediscovering some curiosity from more halcyon days?

Not everyone can effectively indulge in the practice of aggregationism and maintain it as an art form. It's a rare persona that contains the varied special talents required to achieve the coveted status of Aggregator Aficionado (AA).

Some of the most vital traits Aggregators are:

   1) An extreme kinship to inanimate objects. Someone, somewhere, has invested time, money, or emotion into each item. We never disesteem that investment by throwing the piece away. It exists, therefore, it has value. Upon the sale or discard of any possession, the Aggregator feels deep personal loss, much like that felt at a funeral. I know one AA who actually cried when he discovered that, three years prior, his wife had thrown away the empty orange juice cans that she had used as curlers back when bouffant was the rage.

   2) A highly refined ability to "see the possibilities." This must go well beyond the simple premise that an item will fulfill its intended purpose at some point in the future. It must include creativity. How can this object be used for purposes other than that for which it was created? The more one hones this skill, the greater the chances that the whatsit will become useful...someday...maybe. To achieve AA status in this category, the aggregator must be able to spout seven distinct uses for any random object in his collection. Applications like paperweight and doorstop are cop-outs or, at best, amateurish.

   3) Steeled resistance to the recurring urge to sell something. Yard sales and auctions are for buyers, not sellers. Sellers are the antithesis of Aggregators, yet, serious aficionados will not spurn them. They provide a much needed symbiosis that allows the veteran to expand his resources and the neophyte to gain much needed experience at an affordable price. It's like those weird birds that follow herds of cattle, feeding on the insects that plague their hosts, thereby relieving the bovines of their pestilence. Each makes a better life for the other.

With proper skill, one can actually use yard sales to his advantage. As the lure of filthy lucre besets an aggregator, the AA will actually schedule a sale. This forces him to reassess each item and get his creative juices flowing. (Note: The use of the word he does not denote gender bias. Exhaustive studies of the Aggregator phenomenon have revealed that the number of males who engage in this activity vastly surpasses the number of females.) Ninety per cent of all stuff thought to be useless will, when marked with a price tag, suddenly reveal new possibilities for application. Uses for the other ten per cent will be elusive until someone says, "I think I'll take this." The moment these words strike the AA's ear, a plethora of new ideas will burst forth, allowing retraction of the item's availability.

   4) Calm self-assurance in the face of adversity. Wives and mothers form the greatest danger to the Aggregator. (Read this husbands and fathers or significant others if you are PC or just plain touchy. I warned you several paragraphs earlier.) Their secret desire to produce waste causes them to complain, berate, and belittle. This is a never ending sacrament that somehow helps fulfill their human destiny.

Beware! There will be no relief from nagging and attempts to force guilt trips. If one feels himself weakening, the best antidote is to seclude himself in an area filled with personal memorabilia and resuscitate himself through hours of fond reminiscing. Anyone approaching AA status knows his collection well enough to quell the onslaught in any location by simply closing his eyes. Failure to recoup could end in the shame of being featured in the local paper as a star participant in Community Clean-up Day. (Complete disability may occur if the paper runs the AA's picture.)

   5) A steel-trap memory. The world's largest pile of saved paraphernalia becomes totally useless in the possession of a weak-minded impersonator. The true Aggregator places everything in piles. He uses boxes only when moving or the piles reach critical mass and become unstable. Shelves and closets are okay, so long as most of the collection is plainly visible.

The Aggregator must know the approximate location of any given piece at any given time. What good is all this valuable stuff if one can't find it when it's needed? A caveat: Watch out for wives and mothers (see note above) who seek to destroy under the guise of helping! Once they rearrange, restack, and straighten, it will be months before the Aggregator can locate anything except for blind luck.

The supreme AA keeps his acuity by locating each object mentally while under distraction. Rumors have it that one particular champion has the ability to recall his entire aggregation, in alphabetical order, three times during an average Sunday sermon.

What a pity that the neatness freaks of this world will never know the pride of ownership and the recurring thrill of rediscovery that are such vital parts of the Aggregator's existence! How sad that the everything-has-its-place fanatics miss the daily adventures spawned by a large collection of stuff. Woe to the throw-it-away-there's-no-immediate-need-for-it freaks, for theirs is a life of boredom.

Blessed are the Aggregators, for theirs is a life of fulfillment. In their collective aggregation lies the true history of civilization.

To my wife's charge, I proudly plead guilty! I haven't perfected my aggregation skills nearly as well as my father, but he got a thirty year head start towards the good life. Give me time. Someday I'll reach his plateau...if my wife doesn't strangle me first.