"Honey, Please Don't" Part One

I have absolutely no mechanical or electrical ability at all.  There, I admitted it.  When there are things around the house require repair, we need to call a competent friend, hire someone to fix it, or just buy a new one.  Instead of getting a list of “Honey Do’s” I get a list of “Honey, …….Please Don’t.” I have broken too many things throughout the years not to come to this conclusion.  Taking this approach we will save time, aggravation, and money. 

 

There is a male myth: we can fix anything.  Many males in families have the “Handy” gene that will give them the ability to repair or assemble stuff.  Many women possess this gene, but I can only speak about my gender as this is all I know firsthand. My grandfather had this gene but unfortunately, he did not pass this gene onto my Dad or me.  My father also, couldn’t fix anything. As a child I wasn’t taught how things work because he didn’t know as well.  We thought everything was magic.

When I was a toddler my grandfather built a rocking horse from scratch.  It was so well built   my younger brother and sister played on it as it lasted over 20 years before it went to the great pasture in the sky. It may have been missing a wooden tail by the time my siblings had a chance to play on it because someone attempted to fix it with a hammer when he was small boy and knocked the tail off, but I was just a child when I did that fix-up job.

My grandfather had the ability to look at something and figure out what needed to be done.  He always had the correct tool, although most lacked electricity, and could use any tool effectively to adjust, repair or just tinker with anything he touched.  Rumor has it, his tinkering was used to get away from my grandmother for awhile, but that’s another story for another time.  

As a child I proved I had no electrical ability.  One day I wondered what would happen if you took two wires, without a plug, and stick them into an electrical outlet.  Found out this also wasn’t a good idea.  It turns out, by doing this, it will short out the circuits in the house and all the lights and appliances flickered and it made a very loud noise. It scared me to death. 

Then my dad, who was home at the time – lucky me, came into my bedroom and asked me what I had done. After trying to look like I didn’t do anything, I explained. He laughed and I am sure he knew at that moment I was just like him.  Fortunately, I didn’t short out the entire house and burn it down.  Without the “Handy” gene, I was such an idiot.

When I was 13 I vowed I would never own a lawn mower.  Growing up in the Midwest, I understood lawns grew in dark black dirt. When we moved South, I was surprised anything could grow in the bright red clay now in my front yard.  It was a new house so the landscapers spread seed and covered it with straw.  I was amazed that in about 3 weeks I not only had a lawn, but it had grown to the height of my knees.

It was then I realized I had to give in and purchase a lawn mower. Reluctantly I drove to Sears and bought a demo floor unit with a hard plastic grass catcher.  When I got it home, I started it up and began to cut the first row of grass.  As I completed one pass I realized that the grass catcher was already full.  I turned it off, as the directions instructed, and then I attempted to remove the stupid grass catcher and empty it.  For ten minutes I tried everything, and couldn’t get it off.  After calling it many creative names, and considering kicking it, I found the names I used didn’t help either.  It was on there to stay.  As I stood there wondering what to do my new neighbor walked over to me clapping his hands to see what I was doing, because I was finally mowing my lawn as my lawn was an eye sore to the neighborhood..  I love a smart ass when I am pissed at a machine.

As he approached I stood dumbfounded and he asked me what was wrong.  I told him, “It’s is going to be expensive to mow my lawn.”  He asked, “Why?”  I replied, “The way I see it, I mow one row and I have to buy a another new lawn mower because I can’t get the damn catcher off.”   After laughing, we played with it for another 15 minutes and finally figured it out. I think he had the “Handy” gene so I thanked him for saving me money so I didn’t need to buy the additional lawn mowers.

About 3 months later I was mowing again and all of a sudden, the mower made a crunching noise and stopped.  I tried restarting the machine, but it was having no part of it.  It was dead.  I started unscrewing things, because that’s you were supposed to do in a situation like this and I wanted to appear I knew what I was doing. 

After all, we figured out how to get the grass catcher off.  When I opened the oil compartment I found it was empty.  So I poured some in and still nothing.  I just figured out that gas engines need gasoline and oil.  Not knowing what to do at that point, I brought it back to Sears and they checked to see if it had oil and it did.  They kindly replaced it with a new mower. I remembered why at 13 I vowed never to own a lawnmower.  I was right, I have no mechanical ability at all, now I confirmed it to myself and others.

I know I can’t be the only guy lacking this gene.  Please write me and tell me how you confirmed you lacked the “Handy” gene at steveblue22@gmail.com. 

These are just a couple examples of my obvious lack of talent in these areas. On Thursday I will explain further.  See you on Thursday for the conclusion of “Honey, …….Please don’t”

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