Back about 20 years ago, Kyle MacDonald was in the news for his astonishing ability to trade almost nothing for something.
It all started with a red paper clip and 14 trades later, the adventure ended with MacDonald owning a two-storey home in Kipling. That community ended up with a giant red paper clip as a permanent memorial to being part of this extraordinary trade deal.
I had mostly forgotten this incident until one day recently when my household made its own trade of a red paper clip for a thing-a-ma-jig to ensure the continued and successful flushing of the main bathroom toilet in our home.
As soon as I encountered the flushing problem, I advised Housemate, who I figured would call our friendly plumber as soon as Monday morning dawned. In the meantime, I figured if I held the flusher down carefully during each engagement, I could get through two days of the weekend without mishap.
Then the doorbell rang and the Nephew and Niece dropped in to visit and to replace batteries in our fire and carbon monoxide alarms. But soon he was invited into the bathroom to turn his experienced gaze towards the flusher mechanism.
In just a few moments he came to the kitchen and asked if I had a paper clip he could use. I offered him one of those big ones but it was declined, because of its size.
In my search of my junk drawer for a smaller clip, I came up with a lovely, never-before-used red paper clip. The two long-time Saskatchewan residents in the house immediately laughed and told our visitors the story of the giant red paper clip.
Nephew wandered off and soon returned with a bright smile. He had used the paper clip in the facility's innards so that it would no longer be necessary to hold down the flusher for an extended time.
I jokingly asked about the warranty on this workmanship, but I was assured that a trip to the hardware store to purchase an authentic piece of equipment was in the Nephew’s immediate future. To take my mind off unfortunate circumstances, I was told the metal clip would last longer than if he had allowed the worn piece of plastic to remain in place.
A week later, my family member showed up with an official toilet flapper chain made of stainless steel and including a hook and ring. I had no idea my red paper clip could replace such a worthy item for even a short time.
My red paper clip came out, and the stainless steel flapper chain went in. There were several flushes made to ensure the installation worked, and the family sat around the table to laugh about our own trading expertise.
Whereas Kyle MacDonald took 14 trades to realize his goal and had to travel a considerable number of miles, my goal was achieved without ever leaving the house.
I thanked Nephew profusely for coming to my aid, and offered to reimburse the $4.50 he had spent to make his aunt happy. He declined, agreeing only to allowing me to buy him a beverage someday. I hope he likes iced tea.
But drat: after his departure, upon examination of the garbage can, the red paper clip was nowhere in sight. Had he flushed it, or did he slide it into his pocket to use on a future bathroom repair project?
I could have sterilized the clip and kept it as a souvenir of a disaster averted. Or I could have used it to trade for some other required household repair the next time Nephew and Niece visited.
Joyce Walter can be reached at [email protected]
