Mechanically Declined

Mechanically Declined


Guy’s this one’s for you! 

“Inclination”, isn’t that a great word?  Webster’s, or now its Merriam-Webster’s (did somebody get married?); definition is “natural disposition”.  Wow!  That sounds strong!  Thesaurus links you to the word “Propensity”.  Again, the word sounds solid!  *Note to self, rethink resume…and dating site profiles.*

I am writing this because of a natural deficiency, a chink I have in my armor.  I am mechanically challenged.  I can break things with ease-but its the-putting back together that gets me.  The water pump went out on my truck this past weekend, so I called my brother to see if that was something we could replace…together…right!  He is one of those guys that irritate the hell out me, cause he loves to tinker - taking things apart just to put them back together.  You know somebody like this.

I am not of this inclination or propensity!  Where some are challenged, I am thoroughly confused and handicapped.  I am the guy that would rather pay the kid at Wal-Mart to put the thing together for me, rather than challenge my own abilities or should I say inabilities.  I think it was Clint Eastwood that said, “A man’s got to know his limitations” or maybe John Wayne, I can’t recall, but in this arena I am still a pilgrim.  Still it took me decades for one, to admit this, and two, to relish and relinquish the fact I am not a nuts and bolts kinda guy… I can hear you now about the NUTS!!!

You see, I’m the guy that reads the instructions first, always, twice but to no avail.  The circle, the numbered parts, the step by step instruction leaves me hyperventilating in the paper bag.  Where are the common sense instructions?  I would do better at trying to decipher Mandarin Chinese or something like that.  I kid you not!!!  I am reminded of a Christmas when my son was young.  My wife had a tradition in her family that you placed a few wrapped gifts under the tree before Christmas, then when the kids get up on Christmas morning the other big gifts were sitting by or under the tree, unwrapped…Santa don’t wrap.  They weren’t trying to save trees, i.e.…tradition, sometimes I thought they were just lazy…but to each their own…I digress.  So at or about elevenish on Christmas Eve, I faced the undaunting task of putting a new bicycle together.  Maybe that’s why the Catholics have Midnight Mass, cause we are all praying so hard to get this sh.. done.  To make a long story short, on Christmas morning I woke up with a severe hangover, you know the one where you mouth taste like you gargled with baking soda…without the water, and a few nuts and bolts left over.  I think the manufactures do this on purpose.  They put a few extras in the package to leave wondering what you missed - mess with your psyche.  As you can guess the night started with a beer and quickly deteriorated to full open bar, foul language, tantrums, disgust, (the wife went to bed, she got off easy) bloodied knuckles, and uncontrolled rage.  Laugh with me, its funny now!  But in the end, the bike pedaled, the handlebars steered, and I was the hero. 

So, back to the water pump.  I started taking things apart while my brother ran errands.  I stopped not to long in this endeavor, because my reasoning’s were, why break something else we would have to fix.  I do have some common sense, not so much for his liking though.  In all I learned a great deal.  The truck runs fine, without the problem of over heating, not unlike some of the moments exchanged between my brother and me.  He is a saint and lead singer in the Shade Tree Mechanic Gospel Choir.  Amen Brother!!!

I am going to have to cut this short for now.  I have to take my truck to Jiffy Lube to get the oil changed.  Hah…hah…I know my limitations, I have a sticker on my Mechanic MasterCard, and it says, “Mechanically Declined”.