Preservation through self-embalming: Step 1…
There’s really nothing like a cool, damp, gray Saturday morning spent nosing through boxes of dusty relics at an outdoor auction. The coffee-flavored air tells dozens of little stories of excitement, disappointment, victory.
It was neither gray, nor cool, two Saturdays ago at the Shrader Funeral Home in New Albany where folks gathered (closely) for a very special estate auction. “Flavored” is an accurate, if unfortunate, word to describe the still air as temperatures remained in the brutally hot top-rafters-of-the-hay-barn range.
Mrs. Spookyblue and I, Although dehydrated and toasted like a couple of campfire marshmelons,
“Well, I’ll be damned. A marsh melon.” *
walked away with (staggered, actually) this vintage embalmer’s table. Its stainless steel top and cast iron base weigh in at roughly a VW Beetle, but it looks really cool.
In its upright position with all the mechanicals underneath, this thing reminds me of Dr. Frankenstein’s lab table. Some penetrating oil is all that was needed to free up the mechanisms. I have no idea the most efficient way to safely remove the years of paint layered over everything. How much lead can one absorb before renting himself out as a dental X-ray smock?
In any case, someday this will make a fine buffet table.
* One of the few memorable highlights from “Star Trek V”
Kirk: What are you doing?
Spock: I am preparing to toast a marsh melon.
McCoy: Well, I’ll be damned. A marsh melon. Where’d you learn to do that?
Spock: Before leaving the ship, I consulted the computer library to familiarize myself with the customs associated with “camping out.”
McCoy: Well, tell me, Spock. What do you do after we toast the marsh – er, marsh melons?
Spock: We consume them.
McCoy: I know we consume them. I mean after that.
Spock: Oh. I believe we are required to engage in a ritual known as the “singalong.”