You can stand back and look at something to be passed down through the generations as your mark on history. Then there's the sheer joy of throwing things out. I never understood it. At some point in his life my father began prowling around the house looking for things to throw out. A tour of the basement usually yielded several likely candidates for tossing.
Ice skates that date from shortly after they invented ice.
Dad looked forward to garbage day every week, and one of his biggest joys was taking a big green bag to the curb. Two bags verged on ecstasy. Until recently I never understood it. Although we live in a throw away society, we have always done our best to recycle. Old clothes go to Goodwill.