The following is an unpaid ad for carpenters, electricians, plumbers, mechanics and others who know how to fix cars and do home improvement projects.
Faithful readers know of my ineptitude when it comes to home improvement projects and car repairs. It is easy for me to get too far out over my toolbox when trying to fix something. It always takes me three times as long as it takes a professional, and costs many times more to fix what I have messed up. Note the recent $50 project to change the timing chain tensioner in our car that turned into a $1,500 repair.
If I were smart, I would peruse the ads in Our Town, pick up the phone and call one of the pros who could fix up the house or car in a jiffy and for far less than it would cost to salvage my mistakes.
But I’m not. Smart, that is.
If I even think I have a glimmer of a chance of doing a project without turning it into a dog’s breakfast – sorry for the technical jargon – I’ll try it. Only after I mess it up will I call someone to fix it.
You might say I do it to make our marriage better. I recently listened to a CD that a marriage expert produced. In it was a section on how guys think. It was short.
For example, a guy looks at a car and says to himself, “I have some wrenches and stuff, so I can fix it.”
It might take a master mechanic with decades of experience to diagnose and fix a problem, but a guy – me – will watch a couple of YouTube videos, dive in and start turning wrenches.
On that same CD, the speaker advised wives to let their husbands give projects a try. One of two things will happen, he said.
First, the husband may actually fix the problem, in which case his ego will get a huge boost. I remember successfully doing a brake job on one of our cars, and you would have thought that I had cured cancer. I walked around the house pointing at future projects and announcing: “I can fix that.”
Second, the husband – me – could turn the project into a disaster. This would accomplish nothing in a practical sense, but it would demonstrate to the husband that his wife had faith in him. A little bit of faith goes a long way. And if he made a hash of things it would provide a heaping helping of humility, which everyone needs.
Which brings me to our latest home improvement project: changing the light fixture over the dining room table.
For years, we had a light that looked like an eighth-grade shop class had made it. It was fine as long as you didn’t look too closely. My wife and I went on a quest and found a new one in a store’s bargain bin that would fit the bill.
The short version of the story: I (we) did it.
The long version: It took two trips to the hardware store, most of a Saturday afternoon and part of a Sunday afternoon and provided our Japanese exchange student with a colorful new vocabulary.
But when that last light bulb was screwed in, I hugged my wife – who actually did most of the work – and admonished our exchange student to forget the colorful new vocabulary he had just heard and made an announcement I often make: “It may not be perfect, but I like the doneness of it.”
Carl Sampson is a freelance writer and editor. He lives in Stayton.
