The Price of Scrap is Up!!!!

And you know what that means? Time to clean up a little around here!

The other morning my Dad announced after breakfast, on his way out the door, “Well, I gotta go scrap some cars.” Even around here, it’s just not often you get to hear your old man say that.

I won’t be posting photos these days but even if I could I really shouldn’t. My mom is horrified, appalled, and mortified that the rest of the world would see the mess that has embarrassed her for thirty-odd years. Yes, we have been considered the weirdos of the neighbourhood.

I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, it’s just not pleasant, seeing cars and trucks in various states of repair and decay. On the other hand, damn, I feel sorry for kids who didn’t grow up with a junkyard behind the garage.

Do you have any idea what kind of neat crap my sister and I pulled out of the junkers? I once found a hat with a mysterious badge on the front which read, “Modulate With Me” in those groovy letters like you would imagine the words “Fillmore West” to be spelled with. I had no idea what “Modulate With Me” meant. I suspected it may have meant something dirty. I was afraid to wear it. Plus it was kind of nasty smelling.

I found a very nice Nike hat a few years ago. It fit perfectly and was in decent shape other than being a little frayed on the rim. Big deal, they sell them like that at Old Navy for thirty bucks. This one was free! It became my official summertime barn hat. I wish I knew where the heck I put that thing...

You know that magnificent brown plaid flannel jacket? Guess where I got it. Out of the trunk of an old Malibu. Kid you not.

Is this not the epitome of Hick Chic?

Oh but it goes way beyond clothes. Imagine being five and practicing your driving skills on the most perfectly safe car in the world. It is not going anywhere. You can’t pop the clutch and jerk it forward because it’s resting on the axles.

Imagine the massive collection of keys found from vehicles that no longer need them. That is one impressive and heavy key chain thumping against your hip as you strut across the farm yard.

Imagine showing it off to your townie friends.

Now take it forward a few years up to the point that your legs are finally long enough to drive the tractor. Now you’re happening. Now you can be the person who puts the tractor into first gear and actually pushes the wrecks around the yard!
I got to be that person again yesterday. Ohhhhh yeahhhhhh. My kids are looking at me with a whole new level of respect.

So why the heck, you’re asking, do these weird people have all these junkers? Well, Parts Cars are an essential part of the Fixing Up Cars business. The truth is, if you want a good part, you go buy it, but when it comes to original fenders and hoods and trunk lids, you can’t always find it so easily. You cannot simply scrap a 68 Chevelle. It doesn’t matter if it’s rusted all to heck, or dented. You are obligated to strip it down and part it out because somebody needs those parts!

Of course Parts Cars have a nasty habit of becoming like mooching roommates who take up space and never know when to leave.

Add to that, the way like minded people find each other, specifically, find a like minded guy with access to a backyard in the country, and well, it’s almost like the derelicts breed back there. You start off with one rusty S-10 pickup and a few months later you’ve got three. Weird, eh?

To the old man’s credit, the scrap never crept up to the house. There was a pretty clear line as to where the junk was allowed.

And this week, it’s disappearing rapidly. I don’t feel sad. He’s got projects to keep him busy until he’s 112 years old, at this rate. And now, there’s a lovely strip of grass, free of rusted obstacles, mowed with the bush hog. It makes a perfect place to let the dog run like a maniac, and ride the 4-wheeler, and once we convince the hooves friends that they won’t implode if they walk off the beaten path, to ride our horses.

It’s win-win. Mom gets a nicer view when she drives up the road to home, Dad has more room to work (and park the worthy scrappers) and the kids and dog have more room to play. And....Dad loaded up the trailer with some axles and cross members, an engine block, and a few useless torque converters, he and the Boy took the Whole Mess to the scrap yard, and came home with a couple of extra bucks in his wallet.