My brother in law, Barry, dropped by this morning to show me his new work truck. Even I had to confess that it’s a sight to behold, despite not having much interest in these things (and being mildly irritated by Barry’s misguided conviction that I do). I was particularly impressed by the storage solutions that had been cooked up for storing Barry’s tiling equipment.
Honestly, this is probably the most thought I’ve ever given to ute trays. Melbourne offers so many other things to think about; I can hardly believe that anyone would spend more than the bare minimum of time on the subject. But then, each to his own. Sometimes I need to remind myself that Barry probably has limited interest in antique buttons and bias cuts. It’s all related, though, isn’t it?
The way that complex objects are put together is fascinating, and for Barry, the apex of that intrigue is custom canopies and aluminium ute tool boxes. Melbourne fashionistas, who are we to judge? To Barry, our enthusiasm for vintage Dior is just as perplexing. I can just see him falling asleep thinking about durable, corrosion resistant aluminium alloy, just as we drift off with new-season silk puffer jackets dancing in our heads.
I suppose I’m coming around to the notion of one day taking more than a passing interest in these custom ute canopies, or ‘service bodies’, as Barry calls them. I found myself getting particularly nosy about the nicely designed drawer system, which seemed to feature a place for every possible piece of tiling paraphernalia known to man. I was particularly taken with the lighting inside the drawers.
Well, anyway. I put on an extra show of indifference, because I don’t want Barry coming around here all the time to show me things like this. Perhaps if he’d taken more of an interest in the masterfully constructed invisible zip I was trying to show him the other day, I’d have been more openly appreciative.