One Avocado Green Freezer

Sid favors the tried and true. As long as something works, he doesn’t see any good reason for getting rid of it. On the one hand, I’m glad about that. It means I’m getting longevity and maybe tenure. On the other, it’s a challenge when something is approaching the end of its natural life but is still gasping along its inefficient way.

Case in point: one avocado colored freezer out in garage.

Sid bought this freezer nearly thirty-five years ago, back when parts were really made of metal and forged in the US. It has been a good friend and Sid has resisted every effort to downsize it, most notably when we combined our two households and moved into the house we live in now. I’d be rich now if I had made him pay a dollar for every time he said the words, “It doesn’t eat much,” when I asked about whether he was bringing something from his house to ours. I should have charged him ten dollars when he used those words about the freezer.

A few weeks ago, there seemed to be some excuse for sending it away when water leaked from the bottom. But it was a false alarm. Sid had inadvertently unplugged it. Once the electricity was reconnected, it started up right away.

This morning, Sid asked me how much it would cost to have the freezer hauled away. It seems he wants to expand his woodworking shop and the freezer stands in the way of progress. I made a few calls and found out the minimum was about $95 with additional charges at the landfill.

“But they could resell it,” he protested. “It’s an antique. It was made by Montgomery Ward and they don’t exist anymore.”

His comments made me think about the TV program Antiques Roadshow. Watching the price tags on that show can make somebody think that anything old has to have value. I treasure the things I inherited from my mother and the very few things I have from my grandmother, but it took only a bit of inquiry to find out that their value was primarily to me. Unless something has happened to make a thing collectible and desirable, it’s not going to appreciate that much. I may be wrong, but I don’t think an avocado green freezer is going to make it.

But as long as I’m on this topic I have to admit that I’m in the same boat with Sid. I have collected things through the years that maybe will have value in another hundred if everyone else breaks or loses theirs. I have two sets of bone china dinnerware (one was my mother’s). Every young woman wanted a set when I got married. I also have a set of
Waterford crystal glasses. So does everyone else. You go round to estate sales, and there they all are. The only appreciation in price is the cost of the new ones.

Seeing my treasures on sale for a few dollars after somebody’s death says to me that when you buy something you should buy it because you love it and not for any possible investment. Same thing with art pieces. Buy them for the joy they will bring on your walls, not for the possibility they might one day command a fortune. If they do gain in value, it’s gravy.

Back to the freezer. As Sid says, it owes him nothing. He paid a couple of hundred dollars for it and it’s served him well. He now faces the possibility of paying almost as much to get rid of it. It sounds like appliance divorce. He doesn’t know it yet, but after resenting the freezer for so long, I’ve grown rather attached to it myself. There’s something comforting about knowing it’s out there, its old heart still ticking away. So when he comes back this afternoon, I plan on telling him I think we should keep it. I’ll get rid of some of my junk in the garage so he can expand. “After all,” I will tell him, “it doesn’t eat much.”