“Hey Rick, what’s that on the back of your truck?” was the first question I asked our retired Mountie-wanna-be as I pulled up to the Debating Table at the Bakery in Rainy River. Rick is a re-known collector of treasures i.e. JUNK and has a 48ft van, and several sheds, shacks, and barns all stuffed to the rafters with mysterious goodies. Mysterious because neither Rick nor his Sweetie can remember exactly what the inventory is. And this does not even include the dead machinery and derelict autos scattered through the woodlot.
These perennial hoarders suffer from a severe infection of Auctionitis. Sort of like Covid 19 only worse and incurable. Rick keeps threatening to have Telford hold an auction to reduce the holdings. Telford verges on mental collapse at the prospect of having to rationalize the hoard. That is poetic justice since Telford shouting “SOLD” in years past was the major decider on the building of the collection.
But I digress.
“It’s a propane fired biffy. The latest in environmentally responsible waste disposal,” stated Rick proudly before launching into a detailed description of its operation, “After making a deposit, you just turn the knob and Poof! It’s gone. No muss, no fuss, no stink, no septic field, no bother!”
“Propane!” I exclaimed, “What if it explodes?” My head was filled with visions of Rick his trousers around his ankles sailing across his yard. Not a pretty sight.
“What’s that piece of junk in your truck,” asked Sheila as she strode up to the table all dewy eyed and puffing, in from her morning walk.
“It’s a propane fired biffy. The latest in environmentally responsible waste disposal…” started Rick proudly before Sheila cut him off.
“A propane pooh-burner! Are you crazy? You didn’t buy it did you? I doubt we could underwrite the insurance on that.” snorted Sheila, as she refilled Rick’s coffee cup. Rick you remember is too crippled-up to make the refill rounds with the coffee pot.
“Yes, I did buy it and I will resell it and make a good profit,” snarled the Wanna-be Mountie as slurping mightily he only spilled the top inch of his coffee onto the Debating Table.
“What’s that ornament in the back of your truck?” brayed Ziggy as fresh from the barnyard he trotted up to the Debating Table. Things haven’t become too sloppy around the pasture so Ziggy hasn’t been mandated to leave his rubber boots at the door….yet.
“It’s a propane fired biffy…” started Rick before Ziggy cut him off.
“A propane turd-burner! Are you crazy? You didn’t buy it did you? Better stick to a honey bucket,” snorted Ziggy as he overfilled Rick’s mug.
Rick whipped out his phone and hit the speed dial and then spoke. “Darryl I’m bringing that biffy back. Be there in an hour!”
