I presume most of the members of these forums have heard about the thought experiment named Schroedingers cat?
In case you “didn’t get the memo”: Schrödinger's cat - Wikipedia
Som thoughts prompted by this build thread:
A model kit in one way resembles that famous moggy.
The cat can be either dead or alive and a model kit can be buildable or a total mess.
We have to “open the box” to find out the vitality status of the cat.
We have to open the box and start building to actually find out if the kit can be built or not.
The closed box represents the hope for a joyful build with a nice result, opening the box, checking the parts and maybe even building can lead to joy and satisfaction or to crushed hopes and despair.
In todays world, you usually have an inkling of how good or bad a kit is, given that drawings and sprue shots are available before release, admittedly you can’t see everything, such as build problems in. So the cat is either half dead and you can revive it, or completely healthy or dead!
And then there is the Uncertainty Principle, which states that one cannot simultaneously know the position of a kit part, and the speed at which it will find the nearest carpet, with any accuracy.
Ah, the stash and all it represents. To younger builders or those with small stashes, it represents hope. The chances of opening the box and completing the build are high. For those larger stash holders, the stash represents security in that the kits in the stash are kits that will never be hard for them to find and can be built at leisure. For the older builder with a large stash it might mean they have strayed from builder to collector. They realize they can no longer build all the kits they have but can’t part with all the work, excitement, and the stories that were created in finding and acquiring those kits
I try to go for the unique subject. No offense to the Bradley / Abrams / Sherman / Tiger crowd; but I like building stuff that someone will look at and say, “Wow! What’s that?!” I start out each kit like it’s going to take 1st place at Nationals; but sometimes by the end I’m saying, “This one is the bane of my existence!” I’m not naming any particular names (Panda!)
For me every kit is alive and happy until I want to start taking firecrackers to them!
I like to think of it more like a wine cellar. Dark, dusty… a few cobwebs here and there. You don’t visit and just hang out there, but when you do go down to cull the stacks and select the next project, you feel like a sommelier curating the collection. What will it be?
You take a kit down from the stacks, blow off the dust and consider the possibilities. Can you remember back to the vision that you had when you first bought that kit? The bouquet as you open the box - Who can forget that wonderful sweet-sour Monogram kit smell from the '60s and '70s?! The curled and yellowed decals - No problem, I was never going to build it in those markings anyway… All those crude details - Why, I’ve got a PE set that will take care of all of those! Rubber band tracks… hmmmm… where’s that box of Fruils?
Alas… by now I’m sneezing and my eyes are watering from the dust. The lightbulb in the overhead is starting to flicker, and “household 6” is upstairs calling my name (no doubt some damned chore that needs doing!). Oh well, close the box back up and shove the kit back on the shelf.
The Frau is probably calling me to go and clean Shrodinger’s eff’ing litter box! (Now there’s a BOUQUET!!!)
I’ll be 70 in a couple of days…and my stash is as you describe. Knowing my mortality, I know that I will never build all of my stash (which has been cut down from over 800 to about 150 kits). With that being said, I replace kits with better/recent technology all the time. The rest goes to the vendor table. That helps ease the build and reduces aftermarket purchases. The other factor: appeal. I need the kit to have a wow factor, one that hits my modeling funny bone. I use the adage that I should be able to walk up to my stash blind folded, and that I’ll pick a kit that has pre-determined appeal, and immediately put on the table to build
Schroedinger’s Cat is a wonderful analogy to the model kit. Even if you read all the [subjective] reviews, look at the sprue shots, and get the best price, you still don’t know exactly how those kit parts are going to fit for you. Getting that kit box from the postman creates excitement, hope, enthusiasm, and creative ideas as you pull off that box lid. Those feelings remain until you actually put glue to plastic, and can be confirmed or dashed, depending on the quality of the kit. Whether we get joy or disappointment, whether the cat is dead or alive, remains an unknown until we open the box.
I also like the ‘oddball’ and/or “wow” factor, as you put it. One example I’m contemplating: Portuguese use of a German WW2 LeFH18M 10.5cm howitzer during the span of the 1970’s Central African Wars, designated “Obus K 10.5 cm 28 m941”…seen/used in Angola. The AFV kit (AF35S24) will be used.
My “experiments” show some correlation between the “breed of cat” and the satisfactory outcome. Yet one is only gets to learn the true outcome, regardless of “good or bad potential” by putting the pedal to the metal and building.
Until glue meets plastic for that specific kit it’s all speculation. The outcome is independent of everyone else’s prior outcomes. It’s actually independent of one’s own prior outcomes as each build project stands or falls on that builds merit.
With Truth being found in the actual Doing Stage and no where else for what the model will become.
Two perfect kits can have wildly different outcomes by the same builder depending on if a bottle of LC gets tipped or not.
Cats had the last laugh (collectively, they always do), Schroedinger’s in a box and there’s not much doubt about his status. His grave gets danced on by confused animal rights activists. He was fond of pussies, especially really young ones…
percent agree 
