Handy is Dandy

I’ve never been accused of being the brightest bulb on the tree. I’ve been accused of not being able to see the forest for the trees, but the brightest bulb on, not so much. I have, however, been recognized by several people (okay, only by my wife, but she’s very perceptive), of being handy. That is to say, I have a way with things mechanical. When it comes to things intellectual or social or, as it turns out, matrimonial (present matrimony excluded), maybe not so way. I still, after these years, find people, politics, beliefs, and mores mostly a mystery, but machines I get.

I’m proud to say that back in the day of VCR’s I could actually set the clock on mine. I could even do it as quickly as my ten year old son, so I’m also proud to say that I might be as smart as a fifth grader. I can install and operate a DVD player and even know that it will play CD’s (it’s true, give it a try). I can install and operate a BluRay player, an LCD or Plasma TV, and even a DLP projector. I can install a surround sound system with only a few parts left over, and with a few hours and a few instruction manuals I can make all my players play together nicely. I can get all the remotes to function, more or less, but cannot for the life of me get any of the several “universal remotes” I have purchased be anything but universally worthless.

I’m a fixer. That is to say, I can fix things that are broken. Not anything of course: I was never very good at fixing broken hearts, broken relationships or races. I couldn’t “fix it” when my second wife got sick and died from cancer (not funny, just very sad). But if it’s a machine, I’m your man. I could even fix cars, back before cars became smarter than people, far more complicated and far more fickle. If it’s part of a house, I can fix it. Plumbing doesn’t scare me. Bring on your faucets that leak, your drains that clog, your toilets that don’t flush, or don’t stop flushing. Wiring scares me a little, less since I started turning off the breaker before the repair instead of during (don’t ask, suffice it to say I was trying to be the brightest bulb on the tree, literally).

Of course, I have tools, lot and lots of tools. I started out with hand tools and even have a few antiques. They’re beautiful objects, handcrafted by skilled craftsmen, that still work beautifully. Work being the operative word, I have since purchased several power tools. They make little jobs easier and bigger jobs possible. I even have a Shop Smith, a wonderful machine that does it all, developed several years ago by a very handy man (pardon the pun). It’s a great rip saw, a great cross cut saw, a great band saw, a great masonry saw, a great metal saw, a great drum sander, a great disk sander, a great grinder, a great dadoer (no I didn’t make that up), a great router, a great joiner, a great planer, a great shaper, a great drill press, and a an incredible adjustable lathe. Of course, switching between functions is a great time-waster, but that wasn’t mentioned in the brochure.

Needless to say, I believe in being prepared, tool wise. However, according to my father-in-law, may he rest in peace, I am way too prepared and most of most my tools are a complete waste of space and money. His toolbox contained just three items which he utilized according to a very strict set of guidelines. If it moves and shouldn’t, use duct tape. If it doesn’t move and should, use WD 40. For everything else, use the hammer. If it doesn’t fix it, it’s still the appropriate tool.