The Pirate in us all

Today I went to a landfill. I had trash to dump, of course, but that was only half of my goal. After doing my disposal duty, I drove on over to where they piled up the heavy stuff, because I had a mission. Scavaging.

The idea of roaming around in a junkyard or a landfill and taking workable pieces from otherwise trashed objects has a certain appeal to me. I'm attracted to the idea of refurbishing, though I've little actual experience with it. I felt the particular urge to rummage through cars and appliances while in Senegal, when I was looking for parts to enact the grand ideas I had for renovating my hut. To my credit, the windmill design was taking shape, although I didn't get far enough to work in the alternator.

So today I found myself walking among discarded refrigerators and broken washing machines across a ground littered with strips of metal and plastic. Some see a wasteland of modern scrap, I see possibilities. Possibilities admittedly hampered by my limited understanding of electronics and contruction techniques, so I wouldn't feel safe with a high voltage power supply even if I found one.

I used to have a habit as a kid. Whenever I was in my grandmother's house, I loved to rifle through her kitchen drawers because she kept so much stuff in them. My mother often told me to stop plundering, as she called it. I guess I never learned. Really, though, can anyone keep a young boy from looking for buried treasure?

So what does that make me now? A thrifty dreamer? A modest pirate? A man who just likes to find potential in things? Whatever. I am who I am, and if my hands get dirty from a little digging, then that just makes the treasure shine brighter when I find it.

Yarr, matey. Yarr.


Twilight out.