Rushing down that slippery slope, laughing all the way.

Spotted an interesting estate sale in the paper on Fri. It even had a web site, which allowed me to see the spanky, minty, beautiful Delta Rockwell drill press that was available. Sale starts at 7:30. I'm not a morning person, but I drug my sorry backside outta bed this morning at the unholy hour of 6:30 am. Managed enough coordination to dress myself and stumble out the door and made it to the sale at about 5 'til 8. Yes, the DP was already sold. It was still on-site, however, and it's even nicer in person. Damn my nocturnal tendencies.
So, when skunked in the pursuit of More Iron, whattayado? You go looking for More Iron. Cruised past a couple of garage sales, but nothing interesting. And then I saw it. Sitting on the side of the road, lonely and unattended. At first I thought it was a bench-top 8" table saw, but quickly realized it was a munchkin shaper. It had a sign that said "25" on it. My now steel-trap mind processed this to mean "this thing is for sale for $25, please get rid of it for us."
I pull over and poke at it. Definitely late '30s, maybe Walker-Turner. The decals had been painted over. Other than that it was in pretty good shape and looked to be complete, even down to the original hold fasts. It's about 8:30, a bit early in my world, so I knock kinda softly on the door, but no one answers. "Probably still in bed, where I should be" thinks I. So I leave, intending to return in about an hour.
Hit a couple more worthless garage sales trying to pass the time, but this hour is starting to feel like a week. I finally arrive back to the newest object of my affection and knock on the door, good and proper this time. Still no answer. Damn. It's an early Saturday morning, in a nice, older neighborhood surrounded by garage/estate sales. The tool hawks are out, damnit. So I write a note telling the owner to call me, wrap $25 in it and shove it into their mailslot. Then I roll the shaper cart up by the house.
I get home and continue working on my new crosscut sled. At about 11:30 I get The Call. Yup, it's all mine, come pick it up. I get back to the house and meet the seller. Nice guy, he's selling it because it's sat around for so long but he hasn't done anything with it. Got into metalworking and kinda left woodworking behind. Plus the divorce didn't help. Anyway, I start unbolting the shaper:<http://owwm.com/PhotoIndex/detail.asp?id 99> from its nifty little roll-around cart and he says "Interested in an old scrollsaw?" Well, shoot, I already have an pretty nice one that needs some TLC:<http://owwm.com/PhotoIndex/detail.asp?id 22> but, what the heck?It's yet another honkin' 24" cast iron brute of a jigsaw. Craftsman, late 40's:<http://owwm.com/PhotoIndex/detail.asp?id 01>. Needs some work onthe driver mechanism, but for another 25 bones, I can't turn it down.
Not a bad day for getting skunked.
--
Joe Wells


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calmly ranted:
-snip of ho-hum day-

You Suck at least X2. Congrats on a nice haul.
--
The ancient and curious thing called religion, as it shows itself in the
modern world, is often so overladen with excrescences and irrelevancies
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