Garage Organisation (#2) (humor)

TOPIC: "Relative Uselessness"

(NOTE: Although many relatives may at times seem altogether useless, that is an entirely seperate area of discussion and I wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole)

Ever wonder why we seem to collect things for no particular reason? One theory has it that we do so simply: "Because we CAN"...

But the usefulness of a particular object pertains most directly to the subject of the moment - thus if we are dealing with left hand threaded lug nuts for an automobile that we eventually sold or got rid of in some way, it would be reasonable to expect an entire supply of them to have manifested themselves somewhere around the garage.

And oddly enough, they tend to stay there...

After all - one never can tell when we may happen upon another "Left Handed Lug Nutted, Medium Threaded, Chamfered, Grade One, Fastener Requirement" at some point in the near or distant future, now can we?

And what about old spark plug wires?

My dear old Dad used to check ignition wires in a relatively brilliant way, come to think of it. He waited until after dark...

And then started the car, and looked for the tell-tale signs of sparks jumping to wherever under the hood.

Finding a bad one, he would triumphantly rip it out. But something happened then, I'm not quite sure what it was...

Perhaps he was thinking of the rubber boots not being the same, or that the connector at the end might still be useful, I really cannot say not having been telepathic or any such like that.

But he would throw the old wires into the back of the garage...

This presented something of a problem over time, for being a thrifty individual (He had after all survived the late twenties) it bugged him to have to go to the store for anything at all...

And THANKFULLY! He had an entire pile (SEE: "Pilyupism") of potentially useful wires in the back of the garage...


Suffice it that eventually he had a 1975 Cadillac Eldorado that was very difficult to start. Even though it had a 510 cubic inch V-8 engine with very little wear on it to speak of, it reached a point where it could barely manage a freeway onramp, the rear bumper was blackened around the exhaust pipe, and starting it required a complicated routine:

1) Pump gas pedal several times.
2) Floor gas pedal completely and hold.
3) Turn steering wheel in the direction of the next street (it was always parked at the corner).
4) At the first sign of ignition, slam gear selector into drive and pray it chugs it's way to life...

I took pity on the car one year, and bought a set of plug wires for a whole whopping twenty dollars. I couldn't stand to see this going on anymore.

And so - thinking what a huge favor I was doing Poppa I swapped them out one at a time (so as not to confuse the firing order) and went to find my Poppa.

Now, as nearly as I can re-construct it, it must have happened sort of like this:

As I was going around to the trash cans to get rid of the old wires once and for all, Poppa came out the front door.

Thinking that he was doing something in the backyard, I went out there to look also. By now, not seeing me out in the front yard, he must have thought I had left. He decided to go to the store...

It seemed to me he might have decided to take a NAP ( He was getting on in years) so I decided to check the bedroom...

Meanwhile: The pedal was PUMPED. The wheel turned a bit. The key was inserted...

The best I can describe it, I heard:

BUWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!

- And the tires going:

RRRRrrrrrrRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
!!!

And the very next thing I heard once the engine suddenly DIED was the driver side door slamming and the words:

YOUSUNNABBABITCHUBBA*******!!! YOU'RE TRYING TA KILL ME!!!!

- Apparently, being a front wheel drive with that kind of horsepower - it had whipped around the corner and (with the wheel still turned) had skidded around 270 degrees with the tires still clawing for a grip on the pavement, and had begun to head up the street the other way when my father had the presence of mind to turn off the ignition...

All of which was directly attributable to sets of old wires which had finally achieved "Uselessness"

A curious point, eh?

At what point precisely is the feasibility of "recycling" saturated?

And frankly - I would say that it is achieved when the prospect of "Trashcanability" is first considered...

NOTE: MY Father was truly a wonderful old man in many, many ways. He took me to his favorite watering hole afterwards and we laughed like hell about it...

NOTE 2: Yes. In the ELDO!