30 Sunday May 2010
Ezra was a little ‘bent’ yesterday when we got to the junkyard and I couldn’t take him and Sophie in because of all the danger. Or insurance regulations. Or something. “I’m not a kid anymore Dad!” No, he’s not. And in fact I wish I could take him for his help! I’ll need at least one extra set of hands for the salvage operation I’ll need to wrench there. Next week.
But in my search for Camaro rear ends today (another story) I came across tons of cool rides… Thunderbirds, Corvairs, Vegas, and 60’s Chevy Stepside trucks do NOT belong in the junkyard!!! Sheesh!!!
But, Todd Kontos used to say, “We can’t save them all, Scott, some have to be donors.” Or something like that. He still owes me $150 as I recall though, so forget I brought up his name.
The Winston Salem Pick-A-Part is the ‘newfangled’ sort of self service junkyard I’ve been hearing about for years, but had yet to visit. Until today. With computerized inventory, clean floors, an asphalt parking lot, stringline-straight rows of cars, and eerie organization, I was a little… unsettled. Back when men were men and rednecks scabbed rusty old cars together with parts from other rusty old cars, well… the lot was muddy (or messy gravel at best), there was some nutjob ransacking the place constantly with some sort of giant end loader that you had to run for your life from now and then, and essentially the entire place was an environmental hazard. Not this place. Literally could eat off the floor. :sigh: You’d think I’d be happy about that? And I am. Recycling old cars is as important to the environment as any other recycling operation is, and as nicely done as this one is, I’d say it’s actually making the world a better place. Which is a really weird thing I doubt I ever thought I’d say about a junkyard.
At the same time, I miss the old “Hey git Jimmy o’er here with the skidder and hav’em flip that truck over on its top for this guy will ya?” I have that story around here somewhere. Will try to dig it up.
Couldn’t help but feel like I was at Wal-Mart though. And I hate going to Wal-Mart. In any case, sometime next week I may be crawling around in that clean gravel for rear differential parts on-the-cheap, and while I’m glad the place will be clean and safe… I’ll still feel a bit uneasy about the entire ordeal.