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I thought I would seek solace in the Humble Dollar community for my latest self inflicted wound: an own goal of reasonably epic proportions.
It started innocently enough. I noticed a split developing on our twenty year old, 600 gallon plastic oil storage tank. Visions of catastrophic failure danced in my head. I pictured the tank groaning under a full load of fresh kerosene and then… well, you can imagine.
After gathering quotes for supply and installation of a replacement, I noticed every single one carried a separate line item for removal and disposal of the old tank, which was somewhere in the region of $750. My frugality gene twitched violently. A quick call to the disposal facility confirmed they accepted old tanks, and just like that, I had convinced myself I could pocket $750 with minimal fuss.
Over the following days, I was repeatedly reminded of Jonathan Clements’ quiet wisdom: “Money is a tool to lead a happy life, not an end in itself.” I really, truly wish that thought had surfaced before I introduced my electric reciprocating saw to the tank.
Here is something I did not know, and learned the hard way: when an oil tank is “empty,” there is still a very generous amount of oil sitting below the draw off valve. I discovered this the moment I removed the top of the wretched thing. What followed can only be described as an extraordinarily messy, eye wateringly smelly, and soul sappingly long affair. Chopping up the tank and wrestling the sludge coated debris to the processing facility was, to put it charitably, not how I had envisioned spending my week.
Did my frugality instincts save me $750? Absolutely, without question. Did I earn every single penny of it? Also absolutely, without question…have I mentioned kerosene stinks? Even after three showers?
Let’s talk about the opportunity cost of not spending that $750. To deal with the tank myself, I had to buy a small pump to syphon the excess oil, four 5-gallon drums to transport it to the disposal facility, and three bales of sawdust to soak up the sludge. I burned through two saw blades, binned my kerosene-soaked clothes, and endured four days of absolute misery. Suddenly, paying someone to dispose of the damned thing sounds like a bargain.
And that’s before we get to the social fallout. For a solid week I’ve had to stand downwind of everyone I spoke to, including my wife Suzie, who seemed to have somewhere else to be every time I entered the house. The smell of kerosene was literally seeping out of my pores.
Coming back to that nugget of wisdom regarding money as a tool for a happy life, I am forced to concede that handing over $750 and watching someone else drive away with the problem would have been, by a considerable margin, the wiser deployment of capital. Expensive lesson. Valuable lesson. The scar tissue is emotional rather than financial, but it is there.
So I will put the question to the floor: has anyone else allowed frugality to override the perfectly sensible option of simply paying someone to make an unpleasant problem disappear? Or have I secured the village idiot title uncontested?
Sounds like a much, much worse version of my day spent sawing up an old rabbit hutch and taking it to the landfill myself instead of paying our waste hauler a few dollars extra to haul it away! That was 35 or so years ago, but I still remember it — so the idea of sawing up an oil tank and dispos… let’s not even go there! Thanks for posting.
I’ll gladly hand you the title!🤦🏻♂️
I’ll take it…it’s good to be a winner lol
During Covid I decided to tackle the renovation of our master suite. Jack hammering tile that refused to release its 20 year bond with the concrete below (more powerful tool purchase required), glass block splintering, drywall that left the studs in tandem with the old tile (not part of the plan) and hauling to the dump. I was still working full time and the project spanned vacations and the Christmas holiday season. Six months later we the beautiful bathroom was complete.
The two smaller guest bathrooms have bern waiting in the wings and my wife has waited patiently as I kicked the can down the road. In February quotes from contractors started appearing! Message received. This go round I relented and have a tiling contractor do the demo and retiling, and I am enjoying getting the rest of the project done while still working part-time. One month in we are about 90% complete. The tiling contractor took two weeks to complete what would have taken me a couple of months. Better still we don’t have to endure living in a construction site. Money well spent, but it did take some nudging from my wiser better half.
Grant, this is exactly the kind of reply I was hoping for — it’s a real comfort knowing I’m not the only one who gets in over his head with projects! It seems we have something else in common too: during COVID, with no plumbing contractor to be found and a new bathroom suite gathering dust in the garage, I took matters into my own hands. That was another epic adventure that left me a slightly broken man.
I can’t tell you how glad I was, upon reaching the end of this tale, that you didn’t end up in the burn unit.
As an interesting aside, kerosene, unlike gasoline, is actually not flammable in its liquid state. You could spend all day throwing lit matches into a bucket of it and get absolutely nothing for your trouble. It requires either atomisation or a wick to sustain any kind of combustion. That said, it was a thoroughly messy business I have no great desire to repeat!
Honestly, you risked being badly burned and could have harmed those nearby. Not a job for an amateur.
Good for you for tackling that yourself, Mark. I probably would have tried it too. I’ve taken on hard tasks, but not any that messy.
I have a knack for getting in over my head — two years ago my daughter moved into a brand new house with bare drywalls, and I volunteered to paint the whole thing for her. One mist coat and three top coats later, I swore I’d never pick up a paintbrush again unless I took up art.
Mark – this is a great story. I can identify with some of it, and that’s why I have a broken garden tiller in the garage waiting for me to repair it. I also have a partially rebuilt table saw sitting in the garage (next to the tiller). I could have bought new ones, but where’s the fun in that? Plus, you now have a priceless story to tell. 🙂
Jeff, I’ve something of a reputation among my friends as the guy who inevitably finds himself in “situations” — and comes out the other side with a story well worth retelling over a few cold beers. The oil tank escapade is right up there with the best of them.
I think the larger point Mark makes is we all take on tasks in our life that could be outsourced and free up our time for other more meaningful pursuits in life. I just hired a landscaping firm to take over yard maintenance. I never minded tending to the yard, but have realized that several times over the past few years I may have enjoyed an afternoon on the bike trail, beach, or socializing with friends rather than mowing my lawn. I could certainly save a few thousand a year DIY my yard work, but I’m looking forward to enjoying the time not spent in the yard on other pursuits. As Mark quoted Jonathan “money is a tool to lead a happy life, not an end unto itself”… I believe most folks can find tasks that are somewhat unpleasant (maybe not as bad as cutting up an oil tank!) but still do because of inertia, or a continuing need to be frugal.
You’ve hit the nail on the head, Bill, and I’ve learned a hard-won lesson in the power of money to smooth out life’s everyday tasks — though I’d have much preferred to arrive at that realisation a rather easier way!
Just reading this sends chills up my spine. To answer your question NO! A resounding no‼️ I would never ever attempt something like that or virtually any DIY project.
We had an underground oil tank in our last home, under the driveway in fact. We had it drained, cleaned, inspected and filled with sand. If it had leaked there would be major cleanup costs and environmental issues, like digging up the entire lawn.
Nevertheless, when we sold the house the buyers insisted we have the tank removed- such is the legal and cost risk. That cost us another $3,000.
Penny wise and pound foolish Mark. In addition to the money, what about your far more valuable time?
I can smell kerosene from here.
I wish our tank had been underground…even I’m not dumb enough to tackle that.
My wife and I bought a house in 1985. Soon after, I discovered an un-used fuel oil tank underground, in the back yard. Feet were dragged for nearly 15 years. Finally, I put a team of friends together for a DIY removal of the darned thing. The project was about to commence, when a better solution presented itself. Divorce.
My former spouse sold the place many years ago. I’m pretty sure the tank is still in the yard, pushing up daisies.
What can I say, Dan? Divorce saved you from greater stupidity than even I’m capable of accomplishing… always a silver lining! 😂
Finally, I’ve one upped you!!!!!
In the city I live in DIY removal wouldn’t be allowed. A crew in hazmat gear had to dispose of a long- buried tank filled with water. Cost was $1700.
Pity that hadn’t been the case here. It would have saved me much hassle.
😂