taking apart the toaster
a tale of aluminium origami
Our toaster was broken.
We got a replacement.
Then, this happened:
Want to take apart the old toaster bud?
Are we going to fix it Dad?
We’ll likely make it worse. Much worse son.
Well then, why would we do that?
Well, it’ll make a mess. We could get hurt.
We could. Do you want to see how a toaster comes apart?
Do you want to help me take apart this toaster?
Then let’s go into the basement and take apart the toaster.
Taking apart the toaster was fun. We cut ourselves on the metal. We bled. We continued. Some things needed the screwdriver to be turned the right way. Others had little twisted clips. Then there were those in need of ‘persuasion’. This persuasion came in the form of a crowbar. All of it is just a bunch of aluminium origami. All of the components folded together and were held in place with bent tabs in the metal.
It’s now a big pile of metal at my feet. Now I need to figure out what to do with it. In the old days, I’d put the lot of it in a box and the box in the trash. Problem solved.
I have all this metal. mixed metal, scrap metal, metal that could be made into something! Or metal that could be recycled. But I’m not sure whether you can put a toaster in the recycling. Or where to take it to be recycled.
I know where to find out.
The city has a number to call. I would likely have to talk to someone.
And that seems like a lot of work right now.
Taking apart the toaster was all good fun.
The consequences? That seems like a lot of work.
I’ve been engaging in idleness. I’m feeling too damn lazy to recycle. We took it apart four days ago. I know what I want to do with it. I want to chuck it out. Right now though?
It’s a war of wills.
The toaster is sitting there mocking me. It’s daring me to just chuck it into a contractor grade trash bag. It also knows I know that I can take it to a local depot. It knows that this would require either: a) planning or b) remembering. Neither of which are strong suits.
Eventually I will defeat both inertia and the toaster.
Eventually I’ll just
put it in a black bag and pretend that nothing happened.
er… ****If you’re really eco, I did not say that last bit*****
Eventually I’ll go out of my way to ensure that these seven ounces of precious mixed metals go to the appropriate place.
Or maybe, I’ll get the toaster bronzed as a memory of my son and I having such a wonderful time cutting our hands to shreds on thin shitty sheet metal. We could hang it on the wall next to my baby booties.
One way or another, my goal is to outlast the toaster.
You know how that old saying goes:
The tightest of the tight asses? They eat coal for breakfast, fart diamonds and squeak when their joints need lubrication. So please, give generously.