I realize that I’m highly susceptible to marketing, which is why whenever I hear an advertisement I immediately say the opposite in my head to cancel it out. Of course, I can only do this on a conscious level, so subliminal messages still get through. Like the fridge magnet that says something like, “wisdom is knowing what to let go of, not what to hang onto”, or words to that effect.
So given that we’re moving house, it’s time for me to stop my hoarding and release some of the projects that have remained incomplete in my garage over the last five years. These projects are like little dreams – ideas grounded in physical building blocks. Blocks that given time and motivation could become the reality of a project.
It strikes me that whenever I walk past them, I rekindle the desire to weave them together again. To realize the dream. It also strikes me that after walking by them for so long, I realize that there’s much more walking past than doing. So it’s not so much that I’m giving up my dream, it’s more like I want to give someone else the opportunity to dream. There’s surely value in having an inanimate muse in these building blocks. And I’ve had enough value for now – after all I’ve got a Miata to lovingly restore to life. Oh and a new house to move in to.
So my new dream is to give these things to someone who will make something out of them. An evil robot. A tequila dispenser. A battlebot. What are these things?
An electric wheelchair – two small 12V 36Ah AGM batteries, control, 18″ wheels, motors. It worked last time we used it about 4 years ago. Perfect for wheeling yourself around to bars in.
A chain drive, sit-on electric scooter and two small scooter batteries. Never used this – not sure if it’s good, but the batteries should be. Maybe make a lethal skateboard with just these.
A touch screen flat panel monitor – the kind of one you put into information kiosks. Works like a regular monitor, only it also gives information about where it’s being pressed via a USB cord. Perfect if you want to make a giant iPad.
