Home Improvement Maims Several
Actual bag of bolts from fan kit: I kept everything as required for "preparedness." So you watch out, I'm ready.Me: I've got a drill. Friend on the other end of the phone: Try not to die. It's true, I don't … Read More
Me: I've got a drill.
Friend on the other end of the phone: Try not to die.
It's true, I don't have a good record with D.I.Y. (For instance, for a long time I thought D.I.Y was a brand name.) And while it is true that knowledge is gained at the expense of practice, my current bank account includes bicycles falling on my head, lamps exploding, and a variety of deep hand wounds. I've also spent a lot of actual money. And, unlike my cooking projects, so far I've not always been able to get the burn marks cleaned off the ceiling.
For example, the ceiling fan that I actually took a stab at (it only hit me on the head so far, not yet in the eye) has cost me: a bunch of screws of various lengths, $5; a fancy wrench, $29; and a ladder, $180; an electrical tester I know realize I need, $30. Total, some number over $200. What am I a handyman and an accountant?
Estimate provided by an actual handyman: $75.
But where would the fun be in that? Where would be the surprise in not electrocuting myself? The thrill of realizing that "Oh! It goes in that way! I have to take it all apart again." The pathos of the part that seems to be left over. And the ultimate joy of, at last, calling the actual handyman.
No, not like some stupid '50s sitcom where everyone laughs at me. I mean the thrill of calling the handyman and having this conversation.
Handyman: Very impressive work. (shaking his head)
Me: I know! Did you see how I managed to get the wires through that tiny hole.
Handyman: Yeah, how'd you do that?
Me: (very very proud at thoroughly confounding another handyman)