Let’s see. Used it almost every day since 1992, and finally replaced it with a better one. Is that durable enough to make it a durable good? More than thirty years ago, I bought a futon without a frame. Now, a frugal fellow like me could be glad to use it for more years. But pardon me as I spend thousands of dollars on something that will probably outlast me. I bought a new organic mattress that fits my futon couch. An era passes. An era begins.

Look at a conventional bed. There’s a lot going on there. The mattress may have springs. A box spring may have more springs. Under that’s a frame. Probably a headboard and maybe a footboard. That’s a lot to move for a piece of furniture that does one thing once a day. Granted, it does it for hours, but I was
glad to blunder onto a different way.

Where did that previous bed go? I don’t know. But after I bought my first house, I bought a futon mattress. I am curious about Japanese culture, so I decided to skip the wood and simply sleep on the wool – with bedding, of course. Worked for me! Roll it up in the morning so mold wouldn’t grow under it. Effectively toss the mattress every night, which may have helped its life by breaking up hard spots. As long as my back didn’t complain, I could get up and down without a problem.

Conventionality happened when I got married, as a frame was put under it, and the mattress became a futon couch sitting in the family room. Fine by me. 

But divorces happen, and my futon couch became dual-function again. There were adjustments because it could be a bit tippy on one side, but I was trainable. 

Fifteen years. Twenty years. Twenty-five years. Thirty years. About five years ago, my naturopath recommended getting a new mattress. The old one was firm and aging, and they suspected it and the way I slept was leading to bursitis.

Buy a new mattress? Ha! Nice idea, but I hadn’t won the lottery jackpot.

But about a year ago, I sold my home and moved into my tiny house. I’m glad there’s no video of me and my neighbor wrestling a floppy futon into such a tiny space. (video tour for those curious about the space) 

Whew. I didn’t want to do that again. Heavy, floppy monsters. Shudder. 

But I wasn’t being frugal. Or was I? Let’s work this out.

The mattress was good enough that it could probably outsurvive me. Not frugal buying a new one.

The old mattress was firm enough that it might be causing health issues. Not proven, but healthcare costs are costly. Two thousand dollars are a lot of dollars, except when compared to conventional medicine bills. Maybe frugal. Maybe no.

The old mattress has been the site of dreams, though more usually nightmares. It has also been the site of a few liaisons (details withheld because there are limits, eh?); and one spiritually-minded friend pointed out that leaving behind those memories and probably some personal organic residue can clear the way to a new era. Not frugal, but possibly more fulfilling.

Besides, I rarely sleep through the night, and maybe a softer and fresher mattress will help make that happen. Better use of my time is frugal, though the monetary balance will only be apparent after I’ve spent many nights on it.

Regardless of my decision, being 66 and having stripped down my possessions to fit into a tiny house is an excellent opportunity to see what has been durable. 

The mattress was durable. I hope they find a good way to recycle or reuse it. I’m glad I didn’t have to stuff it into my garbage can.

My bicycle is durable. I bought it about the same time, and it carried me across the US, and led to my first book, Just Keep Pedaling.

Most of my books are durable, though some of the fifty-year-old paperbacks are showing age, especially ones like The Lord Of The Rings.

My cookware goes back forty-five years, though much is on hiatus as I temporarily switch to induction cooking.

I have tents and camping gear with slight rips and such, but the greatest hurdle to using them is my increased size and decreased flexibility. I’m working on that.

No electronics are durable. The manufacturers are making sure they become obsolete.

I wish I’d kept my first Jeep. It had a flaw or two, but I swapped it out more for family harmony than because it failed me. I can’t find anything to replace it, and that includes modern ‘Jeep’s.

I miss reliable film cameras, but their chemistry failed them. Digital is nice, but they continue to ‘improve’ them by making them more likely to get lost in menu mazes.

Clothes? Worn out, or I’ve grown too much.

Pause as I look around the room and think of what’s in storage.

There’s plenty more, but I’ll spare you the details.

What has proved to be durable has also been simple. 

It might even be used every day. Complicated doesn’t last, usually by design. There’s a fifteen-year-old Mac on the counter behind me. Most of it works, but it is already out of date with current technologies. I hang onto it, though, as a bridge to computer files that are now forty years old. Some things like masters’ projects are valuable.

Just for grins, but now I’m interested…

The mattress I replaced has cost about twenty cents a day. That’s more than I expected, but probably worth it considering the value of good sleep. I hope I get some.

Stay tuned to see if I am better able to tune out.