Someone wrote me a long and detailed letter, in which they expressed a desire to see my stash.
No they didn’t. Nobody did that. But I’m inclined to expose my stash to strangers in service to a higher goal–the edification of those who may walk down this road and find the same pitfalls that ensnared me along its way.
This essay will be about the all-too real dangers of stash-collecting. In other words, we buy stuff that we don’t build. It sits around for years, cluttering up the garage or attic or basement or wherever. It causes people who are otherwise confident in our sanity to begin to doubt, and those who thought we were nutty to begin with lose all doubt.
Each of these kits has a story. I don’t remember them, but they exist–somewhere. They usually grow up out of nostalgia–and it is nostalgia that flavors and fuels (don’t think too much about that) my ongoing odyssey.
I recall the experience of kit-buying at the age of ten. Too young for girls to be sapping whatever mental energy I had to spare, I was enthralled by tales of the air. Flying Tigers? I felt like I was one of them. Astronauts? Count me in. It was an age of discovery, and I had discovered that I liked to glue plastic airplane kits together.
Nothing would ever be the same.
Buying a kit was a “high” like no other. The kit promised so much. It didn’t deliver–but the promise was there. I know that someday a respectable psychologist will do research on this “new kit mania” and describe it in full. All I can say is that when I saw a Revell 1/32 Spitfire for the first time, I went weak at the knees.
I have a 1/32 Revell Spitfire now, in honor of that time and that experience, but I’m not in any hurry to build it. It’s more of a “collectible kit.” I even have collectible boxes.
I’ve built these, and some of them turned out pretty good, but they’re in storage now. I haven’t really worked out a plan to display them in our new abode, but I’m beginning to lean towards hanging them from the ceiling.
No I’m not kidding.
Here’s a shot of a “stash within a stash” of kits I intend to build, um, soon.
Yeah, I know.
Just when am I planning on building THIS?
We buy the kits in a fog of forgetfulness and fondness for the past. We hope to reawaken the joys of kit-purchases past and revel in that moment of true discovery. But it passes. Lordy, it passes. Then we’re back to putting ANOTHER kit in the pile. I’m lucky. I only have a few dozen kits “stashed.” Some poor souls have hundreds. Some have… oh, we won’t go there. But the words “storage locker” were overheard, and the voice of Lon Cheney Jr. from The Wolfman was whining away somewhere.
“I can’t help it!”
Writing a blog about kit-building means I have to present the complete process of digestion (unless I’m too slick for my own good and write love letters with a Harder and Steenbeck Evolution–shade those little hearts!). So you get to see the complete lack of enthusiasm for this hobby that sometimes overtakes me.
So sue me. I’m not a professional.
I don’t know when the next project will start (if ever). No, seriously. I’m just not into it. In fact, I may be out of town for a while (a week? two?) and this blog will be on hiatus. I’ll post an update before I leave town.