Sometimes I'm just mystified.

At what people throw out.

Now,  don't get me wrong,  I don't go around on "toss out your cr*p day"  and start loading up the truck,  but once in a while,  I just can't help myself.

Like the time someone turfed out a Filter Queen, or most of one anyway,  not too far up the street from here and I took the time to stop and hoist it into the pick-up truck I had at the time.
Hence the true meaning of the term "pick-up truck" as far as I'm concerned.
Would I recommend a Filter Queen?
No.   And that's why I was happy to see one from which I could scavenge some parts.

I mean,  it's a pretty good vacuum cleaner until the filter gets clogged,  and then it's pretty average.  We still have one that we bought some thirty years ago,  but the problem is,  they haven't changed the design of their retarded base in like,  forever. 

AND,  when I enquired about replacing the busted up one that we had,  the dealer wanted FIFTY BUCKS!
I don't think so.

Anyway,  I scavenged the base off the one that was dead at the side of the road,  and tossed out the rest.

But I digress.

What I'm talking about is,  the thing that I happened to notice today,  which ended up in the trunk of the car.

I took the car,  as getting the truck turned around in the back parking lot/alleyway/whatever behind where Daughter Number Two and Hubby lives is a bit of a challenge.  I only needed a bag of tools and the gate that I had made for them that I stopped by to install.

Here,  DNT took a picture.

Because,  like a bonehead,  I forgot to take a camera.

This gate is due to the addition of a second dog,  who seems to have no issues with wandering into the kitchen and getting totally underfoot.

Not being the most speedy when it comes to these things,  this has been on my little mental list of things to do for some time now.   They've had the dog for like,  a couple years?   I forget exactly,  but that's my suspicion.

The thing too is,  their first dog knows enough that,  when told to "get out!"  of the kitchen,  he does just that.   Dog number two though?  Well?  He's deaf. 
Deaf as a post.

No really.  The whole time I was there,  he had no idea what was going on behind him.  I didn't bring any food apparently.
Oh ya.  He can smell alright.  Just not hear.  It's a long story.  Previous owners were retards.  He got some sort of ear trouble and they were too dim to get it sorted out.  He lost his hearing.  Poor little guy.  So,  he got adopted and is having a pretty good life chez Daughter Number Two and Hubby.

Anyhoo,  after I had that little job done,  I couldn't help but notice that there were a few cast off items cluttering up the parking area,  and after a very quick look,  I hoisted this thing into the car.

Um,  the fan.   Not the bench or any of those other things.  But you know that.

Oh and,  notice how there's that protective bit of Masonite (or whatever the hell it is) between the bottom of the fan and the bench?  Um, ya.  We'll be a little careful not to do a number on the bench for a wee while methinks.

See,  I've never ever bought one of these fans.  In all the years that I was with my previous oh so illustrious employer,  there would always be one or two that ended up in the garbage at the end of the year.   The kind that are on a stand were notorious for getting stepped on or knocked over,  and something or other would invariably get kinda wonky,  but unless it's been run over by a car,  99% of the time,  with a little TLC,  it can be made to work again.   There are two moving parts!  That's it.  The rotary part,  and the oscillating part.  As long as the rotary part turns,  you got a fan!

This one had obviously not been run over or anything,  so I figured I'd give it a go.

Not sure what was going through the head of the previous owner (if anything)  but they turfed it out.  Annoyingly,  they also cut off the cord.  (rolling my eyes here) 
Really??

Kind of like that Russian proverb.

“There’s a famous Russian proverb about this type of behavior. One day, a poor villager happens upon a magic talking fish that is ready to grant him a single wish. Overjoyed, the villager weighs his options: “Maybe a castle? Or even better—a thousand bars of gold? Why not a ship to sail the world?” As the villager is about to make his decision, the fish interrupts him to say that there is one important caveat: whatever the villager gets, his neighbor will receive two of the same. Without skipping a beat, the villager says, “In that case, please poke one of my eyes out.” 

― Bill Browder, Red Notice: A True Story of High Finance, Murder, and One Man's Fight for Justice

(as a side note,  that's a good read.  I highly recommend it)

So in other words,  "If I can't figure this out,  I'll just cut off the cord so nobody else can either".
Like that.
Bastards.
Enough to make you want to spit.

Having to deal with that minor issue was only an annoyance, and nothing that a squirrelled away replacement cord and some heat shrink tubing couldn't fix.  I do tend to have "stuff" hanging around,  but only so much.  Never too much.

Now I'll admit,  between figuring out how to get at the severed cord by having to do some disassembly,   along with some cleaning and a good dose of WD-40 I probably frittered away a good hour.  But it was time well wasted.  The little fan works like a charm.

I'll either use it my own damned self,  of bequeath it to whomever I think is worthy.


And like I say,  I just don't get it.

But hey,  one man's junk is another man's rotary oscillator.




Thanks for stopping by.

Keep your stick on the ice.