So, I’m gonna tell you about this ice fishing shovel I picked up. Thought I was being smart, you know? Getting prepared for a trip up north with my son-in-law. He’s all about the gear, and I figured, okay, I’ll get a decent shovel. Not just any old thing.
I saw this one online. It was one of those collapsible ones, all lightweight aluminum, tactical looking. Supposed to be super strong, easy to pack. Sounded perfect. Paid a bit more than I wanted, but hey, quality, right? That’s what they tell you. So I ordered it. Came in a neat little pouch. Looked the business, I’ll give it that.
Anyway, we get out on the lake. Cold. Real cold. Wind whipping. We drill a couple of holes, and there’s a good bit of slush and snow to clear. “Perfect,” I think, “time for the new shovel to shine.” I unfold it, lock it into place – felt a bit wobbly, if I’m honest, but I thought, nah, it’s designed this way.
First scoop. Not even a big scoop, just trying to clear the loose stuff. And what happens? The darn thing just buckles. Right at the joint where the shovel blade meets the handle. Didn’t snap clean off, just sort of… folded. Like a wet piece of cardboard. I’m standing there, looking at this bent piece of junk in my hand. My son-in-law, he just looks at me, then at the shovel, and tries not to laugh. He’s a good kid, but I saw the smirk.
Ended up using my gloved hands and an old coffee can he had in his sled to clear the holes. My hands were freezing. The fancy, expensive shovel? Utterly useless. Sat there on the ice like a modern art sculpture titled ‘Failure’.
That whole episode got me thinking, though. It’s not just about a crappy shovel. It’s about all this stuff, all these newfangled gadgets they try to sell us. They promise you the moon, charge you a fortune, and half the time it’s just… flimsy. Made to look good in a picture, not to actually do a job. My granddad, he had tools that lasted him fifty years. Simple, heavy, but they worked. Every single time. Nobody was trying to make them ‘tactical’ or ‘collapsible for easy storage in your Prius’. They were just made to work.
I remember my first car, a beat-up old Ford. Thing was built like a tank. Nothing fancy. But it always started, even on the coldest mornings. Nowadays, cars have more computers than the first spaceship, and what happens? Some sensor goes bad, and the whole thing just dies on you. Costs a fortune to fix.
So yeah, that ice fishing shovel. Threw it in the trash when I got home. Didn’t even try to return it. Wasn’t worth the hassle. My son-in-law, bless him, he bought me a simple, solid steel scoop the next week. Heavy as heck. Not pretty. But I bet it’ll outlast me. Sometimes, you just gotta stick with what’s proven, you know? All that shiny new stuff… sometimes it’s just shine.
