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=1899>
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=1522> 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=1901>. Needs some work on
the driver mechanism, but for another 25 bones, I can't turn it down.

Not a bad day for getting skunked.

--
Joe Wells