Take My Metal, Please
Just yesterday I told Danny Claypool in so many words, I have no loyalty to anyone on this issue, whoever comes and gets this stuff first, gets it. And he agreed with me because we were in fact talking about screwing Randy, who formerly rented this property from me and whom Danny did not care for and vice versa. Randy had said a guy was coming on Tuesday but when Friday came and the five cars and parts thereof were still scattered about the grounds, I mentioned to Danny next door that I was looking for someone to pick up all this crap and he said he would handle it and then about an hour later came over and said he had a guy who would take all the cars, all the assorted metal laying about and not to worry about the non-metal crap, his guy would get rid of all of it. I thanked Danny profusely and promised to him my 72 Ford Maverick, the only junker which is mine, and which has been parked under a shed for 14 years, not entirely out of the weather. The transmission was on its way out when I parked it but the engine was ok--the much revered 302 V-8.
Well, about an hour ago I'm just sitting here on this funky mattress (left behind by Randy when he moved out) on the floor of my living room and I'm coming down off the oil-based paint fumes, but not entirely down because the room I painted is just across the hall. I have the high speed hooked up as of Wednesday and so I'm streaming in HD the last half of a season 3 Lost episode. I fell asleep midway through it last night but it was like my third episode of the night so I am not in any way wanting to imply the episode was a sleeper. I am very happy with Season 3 of Lost and it is for me out here a much appreciated night time distraction from swatting mosquitos.
I see a tow truck drive up and I assume it is Danny's guy so I pause the show and go out to meet him. As it turns out it was Randy with a tow truck driver from Roxboro and he's coming through now trying to help me clean up all this shit he left out here. I'm sure he's making a dollar or two on the deal and that is no conflict for me. It is my greatest wish that everyone make their two dollars.
But there is this awkward moment now where I'm confronted with the unpleasant task of telling this tow truck driver, who is spending almost 5 bucks a gallon for diesel fuel to get out here, that I sort of promised the neighbor Danny that his guys could have all this junk. I would like to state now, or reiterate, I'm not sure if I've said this before, that scrap metal in these times is hugely profitable. And I don't want a dime of it. I only want to see the trees and the dirt through the vast amounts of shit that litter this property. Cursed with a lack of profit driven motivation describes me.
I tell the driver and Randy about this confusion but I'm thinking on my feet now and remember how Danny was so eager to screw Randy yesterday and how I said I have no loyalties on this issue. I think it may have sounded to Danny like a strange comment, or at the very least, irrelevant. But I said it because I wanted Danny to know this is not about us being friends (I know he's only nice to me because he wants my land so he can make a pond out of the low lying area. His father before him, now deceased, had made his pitch for this land many times.) So I tell the driver and Randy that since they are here they should take what they can but I'm still going to save the Maverick for Danny.
The driver backs up to the edge of the garden and begins winching a 25 year old Ford Ranger (minus transmission) from about 50 feet towards the bed of his tilting truck bed. While he's doing this I'm talking to Randy about old times, we used to be house painters together, and across the way comes Danny. Let me go deal with this I tell Randy and he is clearly grateful to be left out of it.
I apologized to Danny about the confusion, tell him the 302 V-8 is still his, and remind him about my feelings, that I don't give a damn who takes all this metal, first come, first served. The driver is slowing the winch so I look at him and he is looking at us and I nod to him and say, this and the T-Bird for now.
After the Ford was loaded (Danny had helped him out a bit by turning the wheels for him as the truck slid through the freshly tilled and rained on garden), the driver came around to the side of the property, unloaded the Ford, and dragged by the bumper a 30 year old T-Bird without wheels or rims onto the flat bed. Let me tell you, that is some bumper. He then attached to the back of his truck the Ford Ranger, which had three good tires, and him and Randy drove off, after we stood around for awhile and talked about the air show which the driver had attended earlier today in Danville. I told him the tank museum there in Danville was worth an hour or two. The driver showed us some short videos of the air show on his cell phone.
Danny is all cool about this or that is what he said anyway and the driver now understands the situation and is still eager to be back up if needed for the rest of it and he will also bring a dump truck and two guys to get rid of the non metal stuff in exchange for the bounty of metal out here.
I cannot say I anticipated this type of eagerness for my junk but I am happy about it.
Randy and his wife were a little challenged as renters but I still feel kindly towards him and enjoy his company when I see him and don't like that Danny was so eager to screw him yesterday. Before he left I said--so not a bad day, we got people doing our work for us, and you got to screw Danny a little bit.
He chuckled and agreed that it was not a bad day.
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