Please read this if you respect what I do here, or just me.
When I was younger, my Dad didn't teach me much about being handy. He didn't show me how to drive his vintage tractors or bulldozer, show me how to drive stick, or trust me with any of his power tools/things. He wouldn't teach me how to use a bow or allow me to play any contact sports. In fact, one of the times he was angriest with me as a kid was when I snuck to use his compound bow to try to teach myself and accidentally broke it (sigh)... I also also only got one short ride in his 1950's Jaguar convertible, ever.
Ironically, a wooden rifle I made by hand and left on an antique farm tool on our front yard to this day was something he actually used to talk about. Too bad I had to do it myself.
He was always working and not around too often to have a baseball catch. Thankfully my Aunt got me a rebounding baseball net to throw into, which I did a few million times to practice by myself in our rural hamlet.
One of the most powerful moments I can remember as a kid was calling his secretary from his bedroom to schedule a catch on his calendar since he was barely home before dark... He told me years later that his secretary stormed into his office and gave him hell. He changed his schedule after that, my doing, but it didn't really pay off for me personally.
In hindsight, he seemed to find more ways to push me down than lift me up. I used to love painting and gave him a piece I spent all Summer making for his office. A few years later, I found it in his office's closet... and don't think I painted much after that. Regardless, I naively called it first-child syndrome and accepted it all the way until just before he died.
I'll honestly never know why he resented me so much outside of that he likely projected his upbringing on me. I was a good kid that any sane parent would've been very proud of. Ranked top 10% of top of my class with a 97% average, high school jazz musician of the year, a baseball standout my entire life (even playing in my State's little league All-Star championship games), accepted into 15 of 17 universities, a college class officer and student senator, never in trouble in any way, was directly recruited to a Fortune ~10 company I eventually quit to make my own way, etc..
What makes no sense is that he taught my brother how to drive his machinery and cars, let him use his bow, they tackled trees with chain saws, and he let him play as the tight end on the football team. I'm not jealous at all of this, even if he didn't deserve it, but it just wasn't fair. My Dad didn't do a lot of things right with me that I have to come to terms with whether I like it or not. He disowned me with a smile when he lost his ability to control his thoughts (radiation damage from brain cancer treatment). When I warned him the third time that he was going to lose his son, the last word he said to me then was "good." It's a damn shame.
Curb recycling is very special to me because it's developed into an outlet to teach myself how to be handy. I see the under-appreciated value in everything and try to understand why something was rejected.
In many cases, things that are tossed on the curbs in my city are perfectly fine. If not, there may be one small part that's damaged, a simple clog, or a jam. Most people here clearly don't have the awareness or interest in fixing something. They'd prefer to toss it and buy a new replacement. Sometimes a dab of oil or glue, the tightening of a screw, a new plug, or just a little TLC is all these things need. Even the toughest looking scuffs come off instantly with rubbing alcohol or nail polish remover.
For the reasons above, I push myself to do everything I can to fix something. I want to prove it to myself and to my Dad who might be watching, hoping I fail. This pushes me to no end to do more and more, and to succeed on the path he resented me for. It drives me to find more, save more, and fix more... before selling it, keeping it, or giving it away to others. It's much deeper than the income or helping the environment, two sufficiently noble causes. I am validating my personal vision and abilities to be self-sufficient each and every time.
The best part is that if I can't fix something, I take it apart and extract every drop of practical value to sell as parts. There is a lot of demand for parts, and it's often most profitable this way, while helping several more people in the process. I waste very little out of what I choose to take. Maybe I'm part Native American Indian...
I didn't intend to write this post tonight, but I stumbled upon this picture from 2016 on my laptop tonight and it sparked a flood of thoughts. This item below was one of the first things I ever fixed. This scooter was folded up on top of a recycling pile down the street from my apartment. The owner had crashed it into a curb and knocked the entire front out of whack. The brake was messed up and it looked bad.
After getting everything aligned again, I did research online and figured out how to reset the brake. I'll never forget the smile I had when I got it to work perfectly again, like the accident never happened. It meant a lot. I almost kept it to scoot around faster on the curbs, but decided to sell it for $135 cash. In hindsight, I should've kept it.
In the same spirit, here are just a few top of mind things I've seen the hidden potential or beauty in, that I've fixed or restored to sell or give away. You may have seen some before, but not in this context. Now you can see things as I do.
One of my favorites found in a box outside - vintage Sterling Silver earrings from Norway restored and sold to Japan for $200.
Before
After tin foil, boiling water, and baking soda...
Before - Ironically the bottom of this Le Creuset Dutch oven was the hardest part to clean.
After - A $150+ gift given to a friend in exchange for her banana bread after 4 days of hard work and bleaching.
The funny part was that all brushes and tools for scraping off the inside and bottom were worthless, until I used a Lego brick... Yes, bleach and a Lego brick saved this, albeit painstakingly...
I found this vintage dental vacuum mold forming machine that initially didn't work. I had no idea what it was when I saw it on a pile, but I knew it had value.
I found the problem, and both repaired and reinforced it so it'd never happen again. It was a very interesting and powerful heat/vacuum machine when in action. I sold it to an orthodontics school in California for $185. Full DIY repair post here that virtually nobody saw.
Before
After
I found this nice sewing machine in its case that didn't work for some reason at first.
I found the problem in 5 minutes, a loose prong I repaired with a screwdriver and super glue. Easy troubleshooting here.
I happily sold it for $105.
I found this vintage projector in its case outside a thrift store. It didn't work... until I opened it up and oiled the gears. It worked decently at that point, but I had to throw some elbows to shake whatever cobwebs were in there out so it'd work perfectly. It took only 30 minutes and some oil since it's obvious to me that stagnant machinery can seize. I sold it to a happy customer for $140.
Not my pic.
I recently saved and sold this Miele vacuum that had a broken plug prong. $4 later for a new plug end, and after some wire strippers, I sold it to a Yoga studio for $200 cash. As a thank you, I bought two crystals from their wellness center to keep the positive karma going.
I found these vintage stamped cups that were oddly almost completely covered in gold paint, presumably to cover up some flaws from age. The stamp helped me understand that they were originally 22K Gold plated, so I stripped the paint off to reveal their true beauty. Sure, I lost some gold plating, but they still look great.
Pretty nice lesson there.
When I fix something or identify a difficult issue, etc., I feel proud and a bit emotional for more reasons than one. It's a great feeling to remind myself that I'm capable and can continue to gain more experience I'll be happy to pass down to my future children...
I have so many examples, but the main point was expressing my thoughts at the top of this post. I have nothing to prove online. I just hope to inspire people to trust themselves to find the potential in everything and save unnecessary waste. Again, if I can't fix something, I sell as many parts from it as practically possible.
Broken doesn't mean worthless...
FYI - this is what many of my curbs look like...
First half of pile
Second half
Get it now?
Thank you for your understanding,
@steemmatt
The song I was listening to for the post if you'd like to hear a nice tune.
