Inner Geek Less than Gruntled by Amazon

So, if you hadn't heard or otherwise ascertained, my own little pet obsession lies in the vein of vintage farm tractors. I have over 100 1/16 scale die cast models, and a whole smattering of 1/32, 1/43, and 1/64, just to round out the collection. Every 2 weeks I receive a magazine on farming history that comes with a 1/43 (figure, 3" long) replica of the model concerned within the covers.

Agrogeek is the term I have penned.

And I have accepted this. I inherited the disease from my mother's father, who, like me, would have a different vintage tractor to drive for every day of the year, if funds allowed. That not being the case for either of us, we collect die cast replicas. I haven't seen him in about a year and a half, having been overseas, but on one of the last occasions that we shared a Mountain Dew (which, dadblastit, ain't for sale in the UK) on the front porch, we jointly lamented the amount of literature available to such agrogeeks as ourselves. (Though, at the time, the term didn't exist)

The problem, as he put it, was finding a book on tractors that didn't know less than ourselves. To clarify: I had recently purchased a book entitled "The Complete History of Farm Tractors" by Merco de Cet. By the time I gave up reading it, not even halfway through, I had managed to fill every inch of blank space inside both covers with information he'd left out: models, brands, dates, facts, et cetera. I was incensed. While the casual, less acquainted non-agrogeek can be placated with any of the coffee table offerings for sale at your local international literary retail chain, goofballs like me need encyclopaedias of facts, libraries at our finger tips, enough photographs to wallpaper a barn.

So, imagine my joy when I learned that there was a book published in '04 (pronounced ot-four, just for the fun of it) entitled "The BIG Book of Massey Tractors: The Complete History of Massey-Harris and Massey-Ferguson Tractors... Plus Collectibles, Sales Memorabilia, and Brochures"!!

Incidentally, I DO know that this is my most boring blog ever. Bear with me, the rant begins shortly.

Now, aforementioned book only had one printing run, and as such is hard to come by. On Amazon, it tends to run over $130. So, when I saw a used hardback copy for about 40 bucks, I bought it. Here, for those who haven't navigated elsewhere, is what I expected to see when I opened the package that duly arrived 3 weeks later from (ostensibly) the Atlanta Book Company:

Imagine, then, if you naively think that you possibly can, the inner turmoil and betrayal I felt when I opened a package from Auburn Books of Auburn, Washington to find this paperback:

Now, as it happens, I used to be quite the Coca-Cola enthusiast. Somewhere, in some barn or shed in Northwest Arkansas, are stacks of boxes full of my Coca-Cola collection. I will read the book, but EGAD! Surely you can see the lack of similarities between the 2 books. I can see three words in common: the, history, and collectibles. And, as my purchase went thru on Amazon.co.uk, using the name 'Atlanta' on one's international shop front rather convinces the party of the second part that your company is located in Georgia. How in the world some company in Washington cottoned on to the idea of sending me a paperback on Coca-Cola in lieu of the hardback on Massey Harris that I expected to arrive from Georgia is enough to make me blog in a blind fury.

Welcome to my world.

2 Years On

Howdy.


Been awhile, ain't it? In the blip between this post and the one below it, my wife and I have gotten pregnant twice, and now have 2 healthy, amply-lunged children. Perhaps you can ascertain why I've been a bit retiscent.


But professionals don't apologize, so, preparatorially aspirational, I'll not either.


Instead, merely as a matter of getting the old literary cogs oiled again, I'll tell you about my favourite bandana. If I had the time and skill, I'd scan it in as a photo and utilise it for the wallpaper of this particular bit of text. I have neither, but, again, not apologizing. We all have to learn to cope sometimes, and sometimes coping means lowering expectations. Remind me sometime to tell you the joys and benefits of lowered expectations.


My favourite bandana is red (tho, of course, it so easily could've been blue) and paisley-patterned. It looks like most of the other ones I've got crammed in the bandana basket, until you unfold it and see the oilstains obtained while doing emergency maintenance on my 78 Volkswagen Rabbit.

You'd have to check with my navigating Hobbit as to when this was; it could've been during KFH in June '06, which seems most likely, but,being June, was a bit early on in the year. I say this because I know the next time I saw the rag was when, at the late-August demolition derby of whatever year is in question, the Hobbit and I were sharing a barbecued turkey leg (to be followed by a funnel cake, obviously), and his reply to the query ,"Where'd you get the bandana you've wrapped this here turkey leg in?" was "Out of the rabbit's trunk, in that upside-down frisbee." If it had been washed, I certainly hadn't done it.

It has, of course, been washed now, frequently even, but the turkey fat and valvoline synthetic still shine dully proud.

Any rate, Ill be in touch.