Fetishizing stuff

It is primetime's equivalent of a massive train wreck, like the spectacular crashes in the forthcoming Denzel Washington movie Unstoppable, only these disasters take place inside somebody's home. And apparently, as with railway catastrophes, we find it almost impossible to look away.

I'm talking about hoarding, the compulsive urge to collect — well, anything, from bric-a-brac to food or cats, to the total disregard of available space or common sense. It is a conspicuous dark side to our insanely materialistic society (do you seriously think there are many hoarders in Uzbekistan?) and TV viewers seem to be as obsessed with the people who do it as the people are with their possessions.

At present there are three (count 'em!) cable reality series devoted to the mental disorder: Hoarders, the original and best, is now in its third season on A&E at 10 p.m. Mondays, usually preceded by at least one repeat episode. There's the more clinical Hoarders: Buried Alive (or as I call it, "Hoarders Lite"), slated at 9 p.m. Sundays on TLC but with a special episode scheduled for 7 tonight (Wednesday). And, not to be outdone, producers of the hit show Intervention — which usually airs next to Hoarders on A&E — sold Animal Planet on a spinoff called Confessions: Animal Hoarding, normally running at 9 p.m. Wednesdays. (The series is in a brief hiatus now, but clips can be seen at the show's website at animal.discovery.com.)

In my home, this is appointment television. My wife, Karen, and I never miss an episode of the three if we can help it, often DVRing them so we can watch leisurely (and replay the especially horrific or unbelievable scenes) at bedtime. I concede we may be a bit over the edge in our hoarder-gawking, but we're not alone: The third season premiere of Hoarders last September was the most-watched original series return in the 26-year history of A&E, seen by more than 3.8 million viewers. And since there are an estimated 3 million people with the condition, according to Hoarders' opening slate, there are enough potential candidates to keep all three shows in business for eternity.

Why? Why should the tales of otherwise fairly normal looking folks living submerged in collectables, mold, garbage and animal feces ("They always have cats!" wails one contributor to the Hoarders IMDb message board) hold such lurid fascination for so many? I posed the question to Grand Haven-based clinical psychologist Walker M. Parmelee, Ph.D., one of the most prominent therapists in west Michigan and, it should be noted, a lifelong friend. After all these years, I've finally found a reason to work him into a column.

Parmelee wasn't familiar with Hoarders or its imitators — he likely sees enough abnormal behavior in his day-to-day life — but his daughter, Kate, clued him in to some episodes. "Some may watch because they are fascinated by people who are completely overtaken by their 'stuff,'" he opines. "Americans consume an enormous amount of goods compared to any other country, and I believe we all struggle with what to do with it all. Note the boom in store-and-lock storage facilities in the past 20 years.

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