Pack Rats

Today at lunch I swung by my parents shop/junkyard. I was in search of unconventional materials and ideas. I grew up here, running around covered in dirt and grime. I still find myself digging through junk, searching for rusted and forgotten gems. Re-livin' the glory days. While I was walking around I realized my dad has a problem. He's a pack rat. Where is the line between "healthy, recycler" and "crazy hoarder?" He still owns his second vehicle- 1970 Chevy C/10. It didn't run then and it barely runs now. The sun shade is key to it's classic integrity. This was part of a close out deal from another rental yard. It's an International (ridiculous to find parts for). I love this thing! Junker or not, I dream of cruising the country in this thing or selling cupcakes out of the back. My dad isn't on board with either proposal but I've been trying to convince him. The Inside? Dust. A pile of tires. Always a good idea to keep spare rubber around. More tires. These are for rent. They make money. More wheels. Wheelbarrows! These also make money. And, they're tagged! There are piles all over the yard. Scraps, parts, bits and pieces stacked to the sky. I give him a hard time about keeping everything but, I will admit, anytime I'm in a bind there's always something lying around to ease my pain. Those heaps have supported me in many ways. Hoarder or not, my dad always keeps me out of a rock and a hard place. I've tried to kick my genes and learn to throw things away but then I walk around the junkyard and realize it's not half bad. It's Norman, Oklahoma, my childhood, my family and it's not going to change. I love it and I'm not embarrassed. Now, I'm ready to paint!

What's your "dirty" secret?