Thursday, March 25, 2010


With the name Astoria-Rust, you might think that I’d write about rust once in a while, but frankly I’m not all that interested in rust. My horse trailer is getting rusty and I plan on doing some body work on it in the up-coming weeks. I have some tools that have a patina of rust on them just from the moisture in the air.

Cars don’t seem to rust like they used to. Back on the East coast the roads were salted in the winter. It was crazy to buy a car without an under-coat. I’ve seen cars reduced to a rusty heap in two winters back there. I wonder if they are just using better alloys now or if it’s the lack of rock salt on our roads that saves our cars here.

One rusty image I have in mind is railroad tracks. The house I grew up in was close to a railroad. This rail bed had four sets of tracks; and north and a south commuter track and a north and a south freight track. I walked over these tracks every day on my way to school. The steel that was used for these tracks would rust even if there was a hint of rain. If there was a passing shower where only a few drops of rain fell upon the tracks one could see the water droplets rust the rails where they hit like leopard spots.

The tracks were never rusty for long. All it took was one train going down the line and the tracks that were ridden on were buffed to be as shinny as a new pocket watch. One would think that there would be piles of rust dust beside the tracks, but the fine power was whisked away with the breeze.


Blogger darev2005 said...

I've noticed people around here using rust as a sales tool. If somebody around here is having a yard sale, they will put out at least one box of rusty old tools. The scent of rust drags in little old guys from miles around, many of whom drag their wives along. While they are happily pawing through the rust, the wives will buy up the rest of the stuff. It works every time. I have a box of junk I'm purposefully leaving outside for when we have our yard sale a few months from now. I fully expect it to be a success.

6:43 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Used to work on a railroad up in the wilds of Northern Quebec...where the men are men and the women are too. Ore trains. Probably talked about that before...nono, not the Saturday night ores - the mineral kind.

Laid a few tracks too...even managed to get a rail turned on my foot. 72 was weird seeing the rail as it approached my trapped foot and curving up and down again like a piece of wet spaghetti. Steel toe and a steel tongue on the shoe saved my foot but still was squashed enough to hop on crutches for a few weeks after that. Lots of good stories of pot/hash hazed beery bleary mescalin filled early mornings of trying to figure out what life was about and we had the answer too. Just could never remember it...


2:48 PM  
Blogger Auntie said...

should be called Astoria Crust(y)

3:45 PM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Darev, too funny.

Moose, makes me want to sing a chorus of Black Fly.

Auntie, I have a memory and it was Moose that deemed you as the "Crusty" one.

5:18 AM  
Blogger Auntie said...

Actually I think it was our beloved Rev who hung that description on me. Something like a Crusty old Aunt or something like that. Either way, I'll take it. After all, Moose is beloved too.

5:36 AM  
Blogger darev2005 said...

I seem to remember the link to my blog on Aunties as "The guy who called me 'crusty'". Eek. Didn't think I was gonna ever live that one down...

6:42 AM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Auntie, right you are. I can't keep all this stuff straight. Moose was the one that called you a bitch.

Darev, it's out there for ever now. Get used to it.

7:30 AM  
Blogger Auntie said...

This conversation has warmed my heart so, I almost wish I hadn't deleted my blog..... :( I miss all of the taunting and name calling in a sick kinda way.

7:41 AM  

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