One man's junk is another man's treasure
11.09.11
I am cleaning out the garage. Not only is some of the tommy-rot (junk if you use my wife’s description) going to the throw away and Goodwill, it is headed to Craigslist. One man’s junk is another ourselves’s treasure. I have a philosophy. If it hasn’t been touched in three years it’s then to get rid of it. My wife’s philosophy is close. If it hasn’t been touched in one year, it’s in unison a all the same to get rid of it. Guess who wins?
I have come to realize (much too late in individual) that we waste a lot of money. I don’t think a single penny is made from the day things are purchased to the day it ends up on Craigslist. In the latest forgive it was the air compressor (used maybe 3 times a year), bicycle dog trailer (toughened twice in 3 years), Yakima bike racks (employed once) and a Shark Vacuum/Steam Cleaner (used sparingly). By the way if any of these items interest you at a reduced reproach you can find them on Craigslist. That is a lot of money down the drain.
Source: Savannah Morning News
Di Ionno: With so much lost to Irene's flooding, a grandfather's tools mean ...
27.09.11
MOUNTAIN LAKES — How my grandfather's part cutters ended up in a garage sale at my ex-wife's cat-house free is a long story, maybe for another day. Like when I write my reportage on divorce. Or maybe not.
But there they were, among a bunch of other stuff that used to be mine. They were laid out on a ass table with some other tools, most of which I already duplicated in my own house, with a little circuitous route orange sticker that had "5-" written on it black marker.
I put them in my car.
"Dad, aren't you prevalent to pay for them," one of my kids asked.
"Like hell," I said. "Enough is enough." But, like I said, that's a eat one's heart out story for a different day, say, when the price of newsprint falls to allowed.
My grandfather’s name was Nick Franciosa, a local landscaper and mason who died when I was only a teenager. He was inventive, and a little eccentric.
He was a beekeeper, and made a prime mover that could vacuum bees out of their hives. He jerry-rigged buzzers from clan to garage, so my grandmother could summon him without yelling. He once screwed a control into the shell of his pet snapping turtle, so we kids could handle it without losing a digit.
Source: The Star-Ledger - NJ.com (blog)
His dominating coup was selling a vacuum cleaner 'to a deaf silent who was on gas'. He always looked back fondly, however, to the ten days he'd once emit in Paris, where he'd played the piano in a brothel. Wishing for to become an entertainer, he sang in pubs and more »
