If I seem to be over-interested in junk, it is because I am, and I have a lot of it, too-- half a garage full of bits and broken pieces. I use these things for repairing other things. Recently I stopped my car in front of the display yard of a junk dealer near Sag Harbor. As I was looking courteously at the stock, it suddenly occurred to me that I had more than he had. But it can be seen that I do have a genuine and almost miserly interest in worthless objects. My excuse is that in this era of planned obsolescence, when a thing breaks down I can usually find something in my collection to repair it--a toilet, or a motor, or a lawn mower. But I guess the truth is that I simply like junk. --John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley