I was searching for items for a swap meet which was only a day away. As usual, this had turned into a last minute need to rummage through plastic crates in storage. As mentioned in Hoarding for Gearheads, this should be pretty straightforward, but over time the organization system gets corrupted. So there I was, searching for a particular item that I knew I had new in a box, but which so far had eluded my grasp. However, the search had given rise to a number of sudden utterances ( to no one in particular since I was alone) like “Oh, so that’s where this was”, or “Why would this be in this crate”, or “I forgot I had one of these”. And then I was easily diverted and took long trips down memory lane as I came across parts for vehicles I had not owned in years, vehicles I had no intention of ever owning again, and in some cases, vehicles I am pretty sure I never owned at all. I was struck by how many times I must have purchased items just because I could not find them, or because I forgot I had one. But that was not the most interesting discovery on this journey. and in some cases, vehicles I had no intention of ever owning again.
If you really want insight into the diseased mind of a vintage gear head, then you need to examine the used parts. There should be a full advanced academic degree devoted to the understanding of this sub culture by way of the stuff in their garages and basements and storage units. I call it Anthropologic Vehicular Archeology. If we can discern the workings of ancient civilizations by way of a few fragments of a clay pot and some cave paintings, imagine what we can reconstruct from the 40 year old vintage parts stored by a modern human. There are already esteemed faculty who can determine your right foot reflexes just from reading a fouled spark plug! Imagine what could be done with a used oil filter, a crank journal bearing, and exhaust pipe discoloration. It is a rich field of exploration. Oh, the secrets that would be revealed, the new buildings on academic campuses, and the passionate doctoral candidates, not to mention the insights gained for all of humanity. But I digress.
The parts and supplies of interest fell into several categories. The rationalization is followed in parentheses by (the more realistic translation) :
- I may return the vehicle to 100% stock one day, so I need to keep this. (this will never get back on the vehicle during my ownership, but will be good for the online posting and for the new owner)
- I have an extra one of these because they will be hard to find soon and I may need it one day. (they will not be that hard to find in my lifetime, so it will probably be in this crate when they sell it all at the estate sale)
- I got this in a box of parts at a swap meet. (I will forget how I got this and be periodically perplexed as to what this fits)
- I replaced this with a new one, but I keep this as a spare. (I will never use this and will always buy another new one because I will forget why I relegated this to a spare)
- I don’t need this, but I hear they go for good money online. (If I ever got around to finding this again, cleaning it up, and putting it online, I would make $7)
- I have a good one of these, so I can modify this one. (The modification went horribly wrong, and now it is worth nothing so I keep it)
Ignition coils are one of my favorites. There were several among the crates with masking tape and words like “reportedly tested good”, or “suspect”, or “R50/2??”. I have no idea under what circumstances I would ever put one of these into a vehicle, and it would be unethical to even offer them to someone needing a coil, so why keep them? Answer; There is something about the weight and substance of a coil, along with the fact that they can look brand new even when bad, that makes me reluctant to throw them out. I left them right where I found them. But the jewel in the crown, the icing on the cake, the capstone of this outing, was a pair of brake pads, lightly used, on which was written in big permanent marker, the words “WRONG PADS”. They were in a crate of mixed items, so there was no telling what vehicle, what year, front or rear, etc. I actually sat down and laughed out loud, which startled a blackbird on a nearby fence. There was no clue as to whether I inherited these in a box of parts, purchased them myself some time ago, or removed them from a vehicle. Were they wrong for a particular vehicle, the wrong type of pads for the correct vehicle? I had no idea other than I had obviously decided to keep them. In the end, I put them right back where I found them, still chuckling to myself. I know I should just throw them out along with the coils and other suspect items, but perhaps I will wait for a better time to go through all of this…yeah, that’s it….another time soon. And if not, it will at least confound the vehicular archeologists.