I was standing in my garage scrutinising a plank of wood which had been lying there for ages, wondering if we should take it with us to the Thainstone car boot market near Aberdeen on Sunday.

It was stuffed among a mountain of dubious “might come in handy one day” material hidden in my Aladdin’s Cave of mediocrity (rather than magic).

A garage collection resembling a hoarder’s paradise.

I didn’t even know what a lot of it was: technical bits and bobs left behind during various projects, and countless old instruction leaflets for putting things together, which were so old that the print wore off.

I just couldn’t let them go, but finally time for a clearout and to make a little profit at the market.

Yes, I’d take the plank with me – to walk the plank, as it were, in this basic form of commerce at the car boot.

If nothing else, it might prop up our rickety market stall.

Anyway, there I was a few days later, presiding over our emporium of strange objects – with the plank perched at one end waiting to be employed as a wedge.

A man’s voice rang out.

“I’ll take that shelf right now,” he said.

What shelf, I thought (oh, the plank).

Without further ado, he handed me £5 and off he went with his new shelf.

“It’ll look fine on my garage wall,” he said.

This curious episode made me wonder at the laws of market forces – “supply and demand” – even at this humble level.

We also tried selling some tape measures at £1 each without success, but as soon as we dropped them to 50p, they turned into hot cakes.

The market dictates the price, as they say.

On a bigger stage, we see our way of life being squeezed constantly by the same market forces all around us: Aberdeen is a good example.

Work is ongoing to fill empty units on Union Street

The city council is trying the same “tapes principle” to get the measure of a crisis over empty retail units in once-mighty Union Street.

Extra public cash is being ploughed in to tempt traders to open up shop there by making it less expensive, with the help of “golden hello” grants to cover start-up costs.

It’s a good idea; if the price is right, the market will buy into it.

Like a fading star fallen on hard times, people still have a soft spot for Union Street.

This magnificent engineering achievement is part of our history and culture, but also stands there as a lesson from the past about how impossible dreams can come true today against all the odds.

Such as potential plans for other wonderful historical structures around the city, which are abandoned, but not forgotten by many city residents who care about them.

I’m talking about special places like Woolmanhill Hospital and Broadford Works.

I pass both several times a week and always feel two emotions: one of sheer joy about their former splendour and the other exasperation over their dilapidated and neglected current state.

The former main city hospital at Woolmanhill came to life in the mid-18th century and evolved into a still largely intact A-listed neoclassical masterpiece.

From the same school of creation which brought the Arc de Triomphe in Paris and the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin.

That’s how important it is on a local scale.

Saving Aberdeen buildings could be the key

Plans for a luxury hotel have lain dormant for seven years (Herculean efforts by the P&J to find out why encountered a brick wall).

A short distance apart, we see Broadford Works languishing away – one of Scotland’s great industrial heritage sites, and another A-lister.

As we passed the other day, my wife wondered out loud if they were allowing it to rot away to force demolition.

My heart froze at the thought.

It seems a long time ago that the then-Prince Charles visited the site and marvelled at all the fine plans.

Even ugly modern edifices have immeasurable economic importance.

The Brutalist-style old John Lewis building and another concrete monolith, which housed M&S, are not the prettiest – glowering down like empty towers of gloom.

Signs of decline, but potential melting pots of rejuvenation if incentives for investors and encouragement for increased footfall are pursued.

And if they take these incentives, councils should persuade them, in places of such public importance, to carry out some improvements immediately.

To show genuine commitment to the city and visible signs of caring for the treasure that is supposed to be in their safekeeping (as opposed to just basic maintenance) – before the real work starts.

A carrot and stick approach rather than allowing developers to leave such projects hanging in limbo.

And impose statutory financial punishments if they just sit on their grand plans, or leave them forlorn and forgotten on a planning scrapheap – like an old plank in a garage.

David Knight is the long-serving former deputy editor of The Press and Journal

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