Mechanical Obsolescence

At the risk of perpetrating an ethnic stereotype, I am a Cheap Scots Bastid. By that I mean firstly that a certain number of my ancestors (excepting those that came from Ireland) came from Scotland. Secondly, it means that I hate to let go of any percentage of the pittance that I earn at wage slavery. Thirdly, if I do let go of that money so hard-earned, I try to make sure that it goes to something that I will be finding useful or practical well into old age.

This brings me to the crux of this post. I can happily do without the various impedimenta that most people seem to require for modern living. Microwaves and electric skillets are unnecessary to me, since I can saute over an open campfire better than Wolfgang Puck. I can read Marcus Aurelius and Jim Morrison by candlelight. I'd rather pull on an extra blanket than turn up the heat past 69 degrees, and I'm happy to come in out of 110 degree weather into an 85 degree house with no air conditioning. Mrs. Druid doesn't share my technoapathy, but that's another post for another day. The upshot of this is not that I do these things out of a strong ethical concern for the environment, although I certainly have cultivated an ecological outlook in my own life, or that I have a driving need to do all that I can to bring global corparate culture to its knees as fast as is humanly practicable. It's just that all these things are a pain in the ass to purchase and maintain. They cost too much, they break too fast, they are unrepairable, and they don't contribute appreciably to my quality of life.

Mrs. Druid doesn't like our handcrank can opener. She always tells me that it's broken and doesn't work right and why can't we just get an electric one because they are obviously so much more superior to those old fashined things? So, the other day I'm opening a can (yes, canned food, I can hear people groaning out there already) of something to eat when, of all things, the can opener breaks on me. Now this is not a cheap manual opener, it's a (supposedly) heavy duty stainless steel model. I thought I was really getting one over on the big box, petrochemical, convenience store, corporate monster when I invested in it. Not so. No big deal really, since I can go get another one easily enough. The real issue is when I'm looking at the opener to try to determine what went wrong with it. A third of the teeth on the drive cog had snapped off, one right after the other. How could such a simple and robust mechanical device fail after only 3 or 4 years of service? Then it really hits me. What am I to do with the broken can opener? I can't go to the can opener supply store and buy a replacement cog. My preference would be to recycle it, but the whole thing is too large and bulky for that. Perhaps if I was a machinist or welder I could come up with some use for it as reusable scrap material, but as it stands I can't come up with any solution other than to bury it as an archaeological specimen for the coming ages.

My next can opener will be one piece and hand-forged like the antique one above.

Naoi Beannachtai,

Eremon