It's so nice to have my camera back. I've started making plans to document all of the work we'll be doing in the garage, down to spray-painting spots on the floor (or the gunk on the floor, anyway) to mark a consistent viewpoint from which to take all the before and after shots I plan on getting.
But first. This thing.
As promised (or threatened), I got some pictures of it. I'm almost at a loss for words, honestly, describing it. It's been there in the garage since I was a kid back in the 1970s, which is when I'm going to guess my Dad got it new (or newish), judging by, well, by it.
I just don't understand it.
Okay, I can see painting up your VW bus in rainbow hippie-colors, and gluing olive green shag carpet to the entire interior space, man, but, though it was the 70s, and though my Dad was an actual Volkswagen mechanic, he was also born in 1923 and the hippies, as far as I can tell, left no impression whatsoever on him (not, I suppose, that much of anything else did either, to be fair). So it's not like my Dad picked it for its style.
It must simply have been the cheapest one. I can almost imagine it sitting on a shelf in Sears in 1973. Almost. But then my brain kicks back in and I'm like, really? Really???
Because, really, why the fuck would anybody design a shop vac that looks like this?
Duuuude, check out the close up:
I mean it's just so damned Age of Aquarius (or at least the Dawning thereof). And I cannot in a million years fathom why my father would have chosen this particular shop vac. Unless someone he vaguely knew bought it whilst high, then the morning after was like Whoa, man. And then had to get it the Hell out of the house because it was just freakin' him out, man, and he thought, Hey that guy up the street will take it, won't he?
Tara has named it Mr. Sunshine.
The craziest thing about it? It still works.