Facelift complete at Dad’s Good Stuff, a New Richland main street icon
MAIN STREET PRIDE — Wayne Wenzel, owner of Dad’s Good Stuff in New Richland, poses for a photo in front of his newly-renovated building. The business offers antiques, paint, coffee and plenty of personality, thanks to Wenzel. (Star Eagle photo by Rachel Rietsema)
By RACHEL RIETSEMA
Staff Writer
One of New Richland’s longtime storefronts has an entirely new color scheme, and rightly so, seeing as its last facelift occurred 17 years ago.
Passersby might even wonder if it’s the same business or not. It still is, don’t worry.
“I used a Foxfire brown as the main color out in front and on the side,” said Wayne Wenzel, owner of Dad’s Good Stuff. “The top is dusty brick. There’s a cactus pine and honeybird too.”
He joked, “This place was built in 1886. I suppose when I get that old, I will need a facelift too.”
Beyond the glass panes, one will find an abundance of treasures laid out amidst the expansive floor space.
“We have picture frames, glassware, beer stuff and right now, we also have a whole bunch of Mickey Mouse merchandise for sale,” he said. “I even have an old sled in the front window.”He mustn’t take credit for all the neatly arranged Christmas décor in the front window however. His wife Merlys takes care of that hullabaloo for the holidays.
“When I was a kid, my dad and I made that sled,” he said. “We built a box on it. Then, I had a little pony. Its name was Sparkle. We connected a rope on that horse, and I would go way out in the field and the creek.”
A lot of times, Wenzel’s luck would run out and he would tip over into the snow banks. But, the pony usually exuded some motherly concern, thus allowing him to get back on and slide away.
“My wife just has to decorate with that sled,” he said. “I put $150 on it, but I really don’t want to sell it. I have thought about making some though.”
So, if people want a sled with a box on it, there’s no stopping his crafty hands from making you one.
“Sixty bucks will be the going rate for that,” he said. “I love pittering. I like fixing stuff. I like challenges.”
Truth be told, he loves to defy the odds. These so-called impossible tasks force him to think outside the box and keep things interesting, which is always good in his book.
“In all the time I’ve been here, I’ve been stumped twice,” he said. “Luckily, the dumpster was empty. No, I’m kidding. Those two times I called in reinforcement and fixed the strangest wired lamp I ever did see.”
Dumpster diving does come in handy from time to time, however. Believe it or not, he just rummaged an old, big closet out of a nearby one.
“At most old farm places, when you walked in the front porch you would see a great big closet,” he said. “Most people call me to go through their barn, granary, basement or garage. They take what they want and for what’s left, I hand them a hundred bucks, gather everything up and go on my merry way.”
His wife, Merlys, just adores it when this happens. She can’t get enough of it, it seems.
"My wife sometimes gets disgusted with me,” he said. “The saws and sanders make it super dusty, and she just might have gotten the back area all clean.”
She and their granddaughter Sheila also tend to organize the merchandise up front frequently.
“I go to another house, pack it in here and it gets messed up,” he said. “But I always say, you can’t sell stuff if you don’t have it.”
Customers also have their pick at many Pittsburgh paint hues, plus a selection of stains and varnishes. Glass creations aren’t out of the question either.
“I build old wooden windows,” he said. “I try darn hard to make people happy.”
Everybody that walks in Dad’s front door is significant to him. He is all ears, and their projects or purchases will always be top priority.
“My wife and I come up here every morning at 5,” he said. “My wife is probably here between 3:30-4:30 quite a bit, cleaning up my messes and organizing the front. There’s coffee too you know.”
The store doors are unlocked anywhere between the hours of 8-9 a.m. On occasion, they welcome the public at the wee hour of 7 a.m.
“If I’m here I’m here,” he said. “If I’m not, then I’m not. I usually lock up around 4 o’clock. On Fridays, I typically lock up around noon. Then, we are open on weekends by appointment only.”