I love the textures and tones in weathered old-time farm equipment.
No cheesy plastics, grainy fiberglass, or high tech polymers. Just good ol'e rusting American sheet metal and pitted cast.
Real workingman colors. Greens and, well, more greens. Save the red-hot reds and day-glo yellows for your muscle cars, thank you very much.
Instructions in one language, not four. And no CYA, fine print, legal bullshit.
From back in the day when Mr. Briggs and Mr. Stratton powered our small agriculture.
Yes, I love my gaudy orange Stihls. And I respect them sweet-running Honda horses and the space age carbon fibers that make things light as feather. But in twenty years, when I find the tools of today's man's livelihood abandoned in the woods, will I be drawn to them like I am to this old chipper?
I doubt it.