Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Old friends

Since living in the motorhome I have had my main tool boxes in storage and just making do with a small tool box that I can carry around behind the seat.

This weekend I measured my large "top box" of my set and found it will fit under the fiberglass tonneau cover on my truck

The tools in my main tool boxes were used to make my living for many years. When you opened the boxes you did not find rows and rows of one brand of tools but an assortment that I had collected over my life time.

As I was cleaning and caressing my old friends ( many that I have not fondled in years), they began to speak and boy did we have a wonderful reunion. Several that were in pristine condition had little to say. Others really had a story to tell.

From the screwdrivers with orange paint overspray on them from holding the dash of my 1947 Ford street rod, to the ground down 1/2" socket I modified for more clearance, on and on they talked and I listened to the stories they were telling.

Every tool with a gouge, nick, bend had a story. Like the "broken" 3/8" ratchet that couldn't bring itself to leave the tool box even though it knew I would never have it repaired. To the 1/2 boxend wrench that still laughs about the day the battery exploded in my face ( he only laughed after he knew I was not hurt and only had my face stinging from the acid).

My jumper cables reminded me of the "jerk" electrician that charged a service charge to drive to my house but threw a fit when I charged him a service charge ( about 1/4 his rate) to come to his house to boost his pickup after he left his lights on.

Then another spoke up and said, "Yes, but remember the retired school teacher that included a jar of homemade jam or jelly everytime she paid her bill, and what about the old black man that wouldn't let anyone work on his car but "Mr. Sam".

True friends they are and I am pleased to have them back in my life, but you know how it is. You have your favorite knife in the kitchen that might not be the "correct" knife for the job at hand but you dig thro the drawer until to find it.


Sandy Hatcher-Wallace said...

The way you feel about your tools is the way I feel about my carving knives & related tools...they each have a story to tell. Or had, before they were kidnapped.

Linda said...

Great to finally catch up on your posts. Will have to check out your links too. Dan would feel the same way about his woodworking tools.

Anonymous said...

I've had 2 roll-away chests filled with tools stolen over my lifetime. There's no telling what the value of the tools in each were, but there aren't too many possessions more valuable to a man than his work tools. BTW, it's a good trick that you managed to keep one of your drawers empty - tools seem to grow to fill every available space.

Annie said...

All those stories - I can just imagine you sitting and talking with those tools. Wonderful post.

Anvilcloud said...

Interesting how we beging to see these kinds of objects as friends with personality. I have done it but not with tools -- never, uh uh.

Kell said...

Excellent stories. My father has a ladder like that - everytime he uses it, he reminds me he's had it since the 50's...

Annie said...

I'm just dropping in to say that I'm reading "Living the Good Life" and am enjoying it a lot. Thanks again for the book review.

Valerie - Still Riding Forward said...

My father was a mechanic and my husband was an army tank and diesel and motorcycle mechanic. They have both died.

As I go through the garage all the stories of what we call "special tool # 42" or special tool # whatever run through my mind.

Thank you for putting into words from their point of view.


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