Now, I have a few tools; don’t
think me totally un-manlike. I even know
what most of them are, such as a hammer, flathead screwdriver, and a pair of
pliers. I even have needle-nosed pliers,
although I have no idea why. I have a
broken socket wrench and a wide assortment of sockets with some extensions for
those hard to reach places I never try to reach anyway. Those are all tossed into the top of a rusty
toolbox along with all of those Allen wrenches you receive whenever you
purchase a bookshelf that has to be put together, which by the way, Char
assembles for us. I also have a skill
saw that my father-in-law bought me for my birthday twenty-four years ago that I
have used twice without success. Furthermore,
I have a jigsaw that got dropped into a bucket of water and abandoned until a
few months later and now it’s covered with algae or mildew or something. I’m not sure which it is, but it’s green and
hairy.
Most men I know would have
noticed the tool missing and probably had a conniption when they found it. They would have had to take it apart and clean
every tiny piece and component. I, on
the other hand, just tossed it back on the shelf and left it, which is probably
why it resembles a Muppet now.
Tools seem to be one of the many
things men enjoy; other men, that is.
They know what blades cut what materials and what saws make which
cuts. A trip to Home Depot is like
watching a porno for them, which explains the concrete floors instead of
carpet. It’s easier to clean. My bother-in-law devoted an entire room
inside of his home for his tools. He
even painted outlines on pegboards so each tool would be returned to its proper
home. The Tool Room was cleaner and more
organized than my office.
I remember my first set of
tools. It was a light blue wooden
toolbox with a sampling of basic hardware items. It even had a metal clamp, for which I pinned
many bad action figures to the wall with.
The tools were also wooden, at least the handles were. They were blue tipped with brown bases and I
lost almost all of them the first month I had them. I still have the clamp, ironically
enough. I’m not sure what I used
them for, but I am sure my dad had high hopes that I would figure them
out. Sadly, he was disappointed in the
tool department, just like sports with me.
I started out with good
intentions, buying tools and placing them neatly in my heavy duty toolbox, but
the boys eventually found them. There
are several yards now littered with screwdrivers and sockets. The sad part is that I didn’t miss any of
them for months, and even then it wasn’t until a friend was helping me do
something and asked for a specific tool.
If the boys hadn’t lost the tool, then it was rusted over from disuse
and neglect. I’m lousy at taking care of
the tools I do have. My friends clean theirs
after every use. I just toss them
haphazardly back in the toolbox, which is just a jumbled mess of miscellaneous
survivors.
Luckily my friends have tools, as
well as knowledge, or my car would never stay running or ceiling fans get
replaced. They even help me hang
cabinets on my concrete back porch.
Apparently, anchors aren’t just for boats. Who knew?
I really don’t mind lacking in
the tool department. It leaves me more
room for books and my file folders. My
friends supply the tools; I supply the steaks.
It seems like an even trade to me.
Besides, I wouldn’t know what tools were needed. I do, however, know
what a good steak looks like.
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it was a drill press not a saw...unless you're talking about someone else, in which case, why didn't you tell me someone was giving away a power tool?
ReplyDeleteDrill press...power saw...it's all the same thing to me...lol
Delete"I really don’t mind lacking in the tool department" - Are you sure this isn't a euphemism, Mr. Cox? ;)
ReplyDeleteOuch...lol...that's hitting below the belt.....I actually thought of how it sounded when I wrote it, but figured I'd leave the double meaning...lol. I did say I had steak, after all.
Delete