In a world where people are lumped into a million different categories, I’m going to throw one out there for you. In my opinion, when it comes to traveling, there are two types of people: over-packers and minimalists. There is not much in-between. As I’ve entered my mid-40s, I’ve realized I am very much the former and proud of it.
As a card-carrying over-packer, one would think I should be in a relaxed state, knowing that I have everything I need.
However, this is not the case. In fact, traveling raises my anxiety levels to DEFCON 1 for fear that I’ve forgotten something. A minimalist can rest easy without a care in the world. If they forget something … who cares? They can always go out and get what they need when they get there, or just go without.
Oh no, not me. I stay up at night, wondering if the 34th pack of hot dogs will be enough to feed lunch to my family of four on a one-day trip. And if it’s a week-long trip, well I just have to understand that I’m going to need about a month to plan and make lists for everything I’ll need. Will I remember to bring a seventh undershirt? Nine extra phone chargers? A back-up to my back-up sunglasses? Long pants in case it’s cold? Shorts in case it’s hot? Toys for the kids? A table saw? Our gas oven?
And by the way … I don’t even wear undershirts.
I know a handful of people who are at least somewhat like me. On the flip side, there are many in my circle that are completely opposite. For example, I remember taking a weekend trip with some buddies when I was back in my 20s. We were going to be several states away, so I knew I had to prepare. One of my friends showed up to the rendezvous empty handed. I asked where his bags were. He showed me a shirt on a hanger with a toothbrush in the front pocket. That’s it! That’s all he brought!
I looked at him, then I looked over at the six military trunks I was lugging around. I thought to myself, what in the world is he going to do if he needs to make s’mores in the car? Thank goodness I brought some extra roasting sticks. But I’ll give him the bamboo sticks and keep the good metal ones for myself … hee hee!
At least I am now aware of my neurosis. I guess that’s a good first step. There was a time when I had no idea I had overpack-itus. Several years ago, I was at an Indy 500 with my buddy. This was a time before I knew anything about Bluetooth or streaming. I like to listen to the radio broadcast of the race from my seats, so I always brought two sets of noise-canceling headphones and a travel radio with a splitter, so we could both listen. About halfway through the race, the radio cut out. I opened the battery compartment to see if that was the issue, fumbled the radio, and the batteries dropped through the grandstand seats and out of my life forever. No problem! I opened my backpack and pulled out one of my extra sets of batteries.
My friend looked at me like I was a Martian. I simply said, “This is what being prepared looks like.” He just shook his head and continued watching the race.
While carrying around a storage unit full of packed items can be a bit cumbersome, my friends and family have all benefited from my sickness. So, if you ever find yourself traveling with an over-packer, don’t ridicule or mock them. They may just end up saving your day. After all, you never know when you might have a need for an extra binder clip or some nasal spray.
The moral of the story is … never look an overpacked gift horse in the mouth.
Tim Rathz can be reached at 40somethinginfishers@gmail.com. Follow on Facebook or Instagram.