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You just described my father. Good one.
Clever…
Ooh what a beautiful piece, I like it.
For a while I was a “picker” to earn a living and keep money in my pocket for food and pay for parts to keep my ancient truck running. In many ways, it was a fascinating occupation. Wandering the streets and searching…The stuff I would find! Cigarette making machines, electric guitars some kid had trashed, full bottles of good booze, and one time a beautiful wooden toolbox full of taps and dies along with other tools-That box holds someone’s life in it. Everything else I sold, but not the toolbox. Make no mistake, IT found me, not the other way around. I love your stories!