Ran into my Dad's old chainsaw I had packed away. Haven't had that thing out in 20 years. Hasn't run longer than that. He got it in 1974. I was the one who used it to clear a lot off he bought that he ended up building our house on. I have a lot of hours on that saw. Can't believe he trusted a teenage punk like me to run it. I remember it doesn't start. The diaphragms are all rotted out on the carb. Looked to see if I could still get parts thinking there was little chance. Try no chance! Other than some common hardware you can't buy any parts for it. Too bad. The thing is built like a battleship. Everything is made from cast iron (versus plastic nowadays). It needs lots of stuff. Sadly it has been reduced to a boat anchor. Should be easy to toss out, right? Except it reminds me of my dad. I have a feeling someone else is gonna have to toss it after I die. 
Ran into my Dad's old chainsaw I had packed away. Haven't had that thing out in 20 years. Hasn't run longer than that. He got it in 1974. I was the one who used it to clear a lot off he bought that he ended up building our house on. I have a lot of hours on that saw. Can't believe he trusted a teenage punk like me to run it. I remember it doesn't start. The diaphragms are all rotted out on the carb. Looked to see if I could still get parts thinking there was little chance. Try no chance! Other than some common hardware you can't buy any parts for it. Too bad. The thing is built like a battleship. Everything is made from cast iron (versus plastic nowadays). It needs lots of stuff. Sadly it has been reduced to a boat anchor. Should be easy to toss out, right? Except it reminds me of my dad. I have a feeling someone else is gonna have to toss it after I die.
I’m glad I’m not the only one who turns sentimental about things I know I should toss, but can’t. I’m here thinking, but but... maybe you could make the parts it needs! And a thing doesn’t have to work to be valuable! I’m hopeless and no help here.
I had an old Sears children’s phonograph that my Nana gave me when I was 4 years old. The needle was shot, but it still spun. Couldn’t part with it. Also a guitar Nana bought me that had a broken neck. Happened at a junior high dance where the band I was in was playing. The shop teacher was chaperoning that night, grabbed it and fixed the neck. Sweet man. But the guitar was a goner. Still I kept it.
Until I couldn’t afford to carry such things across country. With deep sorrow I put the phonograph in the trash. My half brother came by, looked in my trash, heard that our Nana gave it to me and fished it out to keep it.
Maybe sentimentality is genetic?
Ran into my Dad's old chainsaw I had packed away. Haven't had that thing out in 20 years. Hasn't run longer than that. He got it in 1974. I was the one who used it to clear a lot off he bought that he ended up building our house on. I have a lot of hours on that saw. Can't believe he trusted a teenage punk like me to run it. I remember it doesn't start. The diaphragms are all rotted out on the carb. Looked to see if I could still get parts thinking there was little chance. Try no chance! Other than some common hardware you can't buy any parts for it. Too bad. The thing is built like a battleship. Everything is made from cast iron (versus plastic nowadays). It needs lots of stuff. Sadly it has been reduced to a boat anchor. Should be easy to toss out, right? Except it reminds me of my dad. I have a feeling someone else is gonna have to toss it after I die.
No, keep that saw, it needs looked at periodically, probably with a cold beer and remember. Let another pitch it, no one would or will ever understand what you can't put into words.
One can have too many remembrance items. I mean, how much do we need? Most of us already have enough crap laying around. But there are just some items that represent too much to let go of. That saw represented the essence of my relationship with my dad. He was at his happiest when he was working and doing projects that I ended up involved in. He bought that saw to clear the lot that we built a house on. I did it all and became a lumberjack in quick order. Of course I wasn't as jacked up about working at age 14 as he was but after all these years I can clearly see how all that work shaped my entire life. That damn saw represents all the things my dad taught me. Not just how to do things but how to think about things. Throwing it out would be like saying it did not profoundly impact my life. That would be a lie.I’m glad I’m not the only one who turns sentimental about things I know I should toss, but can’t. I’m here thinking, but but... maybe you could make the parts it needs! And a thing doesn’t have to work to be valuable! I’m hopeless and no help here.
I had an old Sears children’s phonograph that my Nana gave me when I was 4 years old. The needle was shot, but it still spun. Couldn’t part with it. Also a guitar Nana bought me that had a broken neck. Happened at a junior high dance where the band I was in was playing. The shop teacher was chaperoning that night, grabbed it and fixed the neck. Sweet man. But the guitar was a goner. Still I kept it.
Until I couldn’t afford to carry such things across country. With deep sorrow I put the phonograph in the trash. My half brother came by, looked in my trash, heard that our Nana gave it to me and fished it out to keep it.
Maybe sentimentality is genetic?
Yes! Precisely this. You know, for someone who claims not to have the words or the skill to write them, you sure have a gift for both.
This is beautiful. I agree completely with every word.
My heart still hurts over some of the stuff I couldn't bring with me.
Some stuff I had to bring. Like the large white conch shell I've had ever since I can remember. My aunt has a great memory and she lived with us, but even she has no idea who gave it to me or where it came from.
I sat as a little girl -- an only child -- and listened and listened to the ocean in that shell. Dreamed my dreams. Studied its texture and colors.
Someone someday may smash it or toss it or sell it for a few bucks. But that someone will never be me.
I often thought of what my Grandfather remembered about his youth. He was born in 1890. Lived nearly 96 years. I thought, 96 years! He couldn't possibly remember anything he did as a kid. Well, I'm not close to 96 years old but I can still remember certain things in my childhood that are as vivid today as when they happened. I suspect my Grandpa remembered many things in his youth.
I kind of wished my saw looked like a conch shell. I could display it on a shelf and not look like a total idiot.
I wish I'd recorded my Nana talking about her life. All of my grandmothers! I remember some of what they told me about. Life stories like those and your Grandfather's would be amazing and worth knowing.
Here's the conch next to a 100 mL bottle of DF for scale. It's big - with not a single ding on it even though I've moved to new houses so many times with it.
I could think of nothing better than that saw in a place of honor. Any one who heard you speak of it and then think "Idiot" would not be worthy of further consideration and did not deserve to hear the story.
Ugh! I'm trying to get through the week by pretending every day is Friday. Time to dive into some of those good brews you picked up!
If every day is Friday but never Saturday, then won't you start to dread Friday? Kinda like it always being winter but never Christmas?
Speaking of things you don't want to part with.. This was bought somewhere in the west on a vacation in the early to mid 60's I think. It has been around ever since. It spent time in my Mom's basement then my sister had it. And I don't know when but I ended up with it. We took a vacation almost every year of my youth. This I guess is my memory of those years...It has no makers marks or stamps so no way to know when or where it was made. And it doesn't matter because I always liked it. Still do..
ahhh go for it ... I just got home about 10 minutes ago.. Tonite Im entertaining the Shiner bock twins
and I need to be at the tire shop for 7 am too
and I need to be at the tire shop for 7 am too
somehow I managed to run over a 1/8" hex key and it bent into a "used staple" shape... put 2 holes in the tire rather close to each other... I tried to plug them but it didnt work too well... kept on having to add air every 1/2 hr..
its been one of themdayz...
its been one of themdayz...
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