A Mr. Handyman, I Ain't

12/29/2006

I have spoken, I believe, to my innate mechanical acumen once or twice before.  As most of my family and friends already know, and that of which The Nancy is certainly very familiar, I have little or no mechanical ability.  In fact, my mechanical disability is only surpassed by my technical inability.  Examples of this are neatly listed below and not in any particular order:

1. My first real foray into the world of things mechanical probably began with my purchasing and installing an oil pressure gauge in my first car…don’t laugh, please?...it was a 1957 Volkswagen Beetle.  Ah!  What a machine is was!  It had a red vinyl interior and was painted a steel blue color.  I bought it in June 1963 and it had over 100,000 miles on it, but what the hell could you get for $600 in 1963.  Long story short: the gauge never worked as it was supposed to work.  I think it was to show the internal oil pressure of the engine?  It never moved off the zero point, ever.

2. Sometime around 1980 I decided I could tune my 1974 Chevy Impala.  I had seen some of the dudes working in the auto garages around Richmond, Virginia and decided if those bozos could tune a car, someone of my superior intellect could do it with no problem.  No so, Zoo Breath!  It cost me over $300 to undo what I did.

3. I once decided to paint the house I was living in, at least the woodwork.  I climbed a ladder and immediately knocked over a can of white paint.  Funny how quickly white paint can run down the side of a house made of brick.  It spreads from side to side almost as quickly as it runs down.

4. I was washing some clothes one time.  I pushed the button and the washer did not start.  I just knew something was really wrong, and I called the Maytag Repairman, he didn’t have anything else to do that day.  He was in my house for about fifteen seconds when he found the problem; the washer was not plugged into the electrical socket.  Did it need to be?  I found out for a small fee.

5. Here’s a good one.  I was needed to drive a nail into a stud in an unfinished room in a basement to hang something on.  There was a hole already started in a stud and I decided to use it for my nail.  I got the hammer and drove the nail into the existing hole, and, you guessed it, right through the water line that was clearly visible on either side of the stud.  Water shot out about four feet from the wall.  I needed to shut off the water, but before I did I quickly ran upstairs and took a shower and then I cut the water off and called a plumber.  I got to mop up the water that had sprayed all over the room.

6. Not long ago we had guests at our house.  The Nancy and I have a Jeep Wrangler that lives in our garage.  Occasionally we let it out and go on some of the trails on the 115 acres of farmland that surrounds our house.  The grandkids love it.  This day I allowed one of our guests to take the Jeep out with his two boys.  I hadn’t cautioned him about a low area in front of our house.  It’s pretty wet, and the wheels of the Jeep left ruts in the lawn.  We have a big riding mower and it has some wide tires on it.  I thought if I ran the mower over the ruts it would smooth them out somewhat.  So I drove the mower over the ruts.  Thirty minutes later The Nancy and I were able to extract the mud-covered mower and the mud covered David from the nice much larger rut I designed with my incredible stupidity.  The Nancy has told this story to nearly every resident of Berkeley Springs.  She loves to tell tales on me.  I have had complete strangers asking me if I really cut the grass naked. 

This is just a few examples of my mechanical dexterity, the absence of technological awareness, and cerebral malfunctions.  These pale in comparison to my latest feat.

The Nancy and I live on a farm (a non-working, just-for-looks farm) near Beautiful Downtown Berkeley Springs – aka the Town of Bath, West Virginia, population 711.  We have a 30’X30’ garage.  The garage has two doors equipped with remote controlled garage door openers.  When we bought the place we were informed only one remote could be located.  After living here for over a year we decided to purchase another remote, a universal model, and program it to operate the door we didn’t have a remote for.  Yours truly, the mechanical whiz kid, read the directions, I opened the little box on the opener and synchronized the new remote with the existing garage door opener’s code.  Nothing to it, piece of cake.  I followed directions explicitly.  I read and re-read.  I pressed the appropriate buttons at the appropriate times.  The lights on the new remote blinked as they were supposed to blink, indicating the programming sequence was complete.  It was time to test the door opener.  I aimed the remote at the box containing the receiver for the door on the left.  I heard the whine of the opener and the creaking of the door.  When I looked up I noticed it was the door on the right opening and not the door I programmed.  Undaunted by this minor glitch, I put the remote down, went into the house and opened a beer – I can operate a bottle opener…no programming necessary.  I may have to call a door opener specialist.  God only knows how much this one will cost me.

And that is all I have to say about that…