Laughed until my sides hurt. great piece. Grew up in a family of professional toolbox owners and became facile with tools and navigating poorly worded instructions. Appreciate your pain--our son didn't inherit the tool gene either.
Greg Byrne: Thank you for helping me not feel like the only crackpot in class. I actually made it to college, but neither math or Algebra was a requirement. I struggle even keeping golf scores. It gets in the way of my strategies.
The trauma of this experience must have been massive, given that I actually discovered a typo in the final paragraph. Ironically, “causal” is actually a word so spell check (if you even use it) would not have alerted you. Please don’t think I’m picking a nit…I am backhandedly saluting your eternally impeccable skills as a wordsmith. Rock on, Doc
A philosophy by which I've lived for most of my 67-plus years, ever since I received a paddling for over-inflating and blowing up my bicycle tires as a kid: If it involves more than putting gas in it, pay somebody to do it. Or beg and plead with my wife Sally.
Years ago I returned from an overseas business trip and had the following conversation with my wife:
Wife: While you were away I met the man of my dreams.
Me: Really? Tell me more.
Wife: I met a handyman who fixes anything for a fixed hourly rate. He does electrical, carpentry, you name it. He already took care of X and Y and he’ll be back next week to take care of Z.
Me: You didn’t meet the man of your dreams. You met the man of MY dreams.
I got lucky by having my best friend, who's dad owned a construction company, ask me to work for them. My dad was the original " Tim the Tool Time Taylor ". I had no clue how to nail, paint, drywall, anything. I thought, one day I'm gonna own a house, so I said yes. I was paid to learn those things. One of the smartest moves I ever made !
OMG this is so funny!! Thanks for adding some pleasure to this otherwise horrible weather day!
Like you, I can never look at those directions and get it. I get too frustrated. So, I just start putting things together and somehow they come out okay. I've always been good at mechanical things, ever since my brother got an erector set way back when. I Loved It! However, I was not able to play with it as it was 'his', not mine. If he ever caught me with it, I caught heck. But, I was fascinated by using the tools and making things up with it.
Looking at that plan you have gives me the exact feelings I had when I was doing Algebra, cause I couldn't figure out how two bananas could equal an orange. And when I was given pop quizzes in school in math with questions that took me 10 minutes to read over several times...you know, the ones with the train that travelling to Chicago 175 miles away with 300 cows on board...three were dropped off every 9 mnutes at stockyard areas. How long did it take to deliver all of the cows, and how far did the train travel without a breakdown..and how much money did the farmer make for selling his cows at $1.23/a head? Did he make a profit?? I would almost be in tears when others were already turning their papers in...still on the third question.
I'm a visual learner, so I'd have to see the cows, the train, the track, the stockyard areas, the farmer, the money, and Chicago. And, what if the train broke down a couple of times...how long did that take?
I loved your analogy with the pictograph! Life can be Greek to me, for sure.
The way any of these instructions are worded and laid out, and with every single screw, nut, bolt or washer having a specific designation -- G130259876 screws X4, D3428749A bolts X4, etc. -- it's a wonder that anyone, anywhere, can put together something simply through the worded instructions.
I learned a long time ago, via IKEA furniture, that the best way to go about it is looking at the diagrams and praying to St. Jude, the patron saint of desperate and lost causes. Oh, and to not do it around your significant other, because you'll be scrutinized the entire time you're doing it (though they, inevitably, will have the same issues READING the instructions as you did).
The last thing I constructed was a cat tree, about two months ago. The instructions were utterly worthless, and the diagrams didn't help diddly, either. I ended up using the picture on the box it came in, some of the little common sense I have, and trial and error to finally get it together. It's still standing, still supports the cats, and doesn't look like an abstract painting, so I think I did alright.
And, regardless of whether we're handy or not, we've all been in that spot of finding refuge somewhere during a project and doing our best imitation of The Old Man from "A Christmas Story." As Ralphie said, "My father worked in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay. It was his true medium, a master."
ASSEMBLY? Phone a friend. You're killin me. Ave a pint of da Guinness - or, at least, the ale of your choice.
Laughed until my sides hurt. great piece. Grew up in a family of professional toolbox owners and became facile with tools and navigating poorly worded instructions. Appreciate your pain--our son didn't inherit the tool gene either.
I’m the same way. My ability ends with screwing in a light bulb.
Greg Byrne: Thank you for helping me not feel like the only crackpot in class. I actually made it to college, but neither math or Algebra was a requirement. I struggle even keeping golf scores. It gets in the way of my strategies.
Perhaps we are related...I feel I could wrote story of like you.
P. S. I start sweating every time my wife has a large box delivered.
Doc. FYI…don’t blow a gasket trying to figure out where to put gasoline and oil in your electric lawn mower.
Doc when talking with friends and neighbors be sure to never say “Here let me help you with that.”
The trauma of this experience must have been massive, given that I actually discovered a typo in the final paragraph. Ironically, “causal” is actually a word so spell check (if you even use it) would not have alerted you. Please don’t think I’m picking a nit…I am backhandedly saluting your eternally impeccable skills as a wordsmith. Rock on, Doc
A philosophy by which I've lived for most of my 67-plus years, ever since I received a paddling for over-inflating and blowing up my bicycle tires as a kid: If it involves more than putting gas in it, pay somebody to do it. Or beg and plead with my wife Sally.
Years ago I returned from an overseas business trip and had the following conversation with my wife:
Wife: While you were away I met the man of my dreams.
Me: Really? Tell me more.
Wife: I met a handyman who fixes anything for a fixed hourly rate. He does electrical, carpentry, you name it. He already took care of X and Y and he’ll be back next week to take care of Z.
Me: You didn’t meet the man of your dreams. You met the man of MY dreams.
I got lucky by having my best friend, who's dad owned a construction company, ask me to work for them. My dad was the original " Tim the Tool Time Taylor ". I had no clue how to nail, paint, drywall, anything. I thought, one day I'm gonna own a house, so I said yes. I was paid to learn those things. One of the smartest moves I ever made !
OMG this is so funny!! Thanks for adding some pleasure to this otherwise horrible weather day!
Like you, I can never look at those directions and get it. I get too frustrated. So, I just start putting things together and somehow they come out okay. I've always been good at mechanical things, ever since my brother got an erector set way back when. I Loved It! However, I was not able to play with it as it was 'his', not mine. If he ever caught me with it, I caught heck. But, I was fascinated by using the tools and making things up with it.
Looking at that plan you have gives me the exact feelings I had when I was doing Algebra, cause I couldn't figure out how two bananas could equal an orange. And when I was given pop quizzes in school in math with questions that took me 10 minutes to read over several times...you know, the ones with the train that travelling to Chicago 175 miles away with 300 cows on board...three were dropped off every 9 mnutes at stockyard areas. How long did it take to deliver all of the cows, and how far did the train travel without a breakdown..and how much money did the farmer make for selling his cows at $1.23/a head? Did he make a profit?? I would almost be in tears when others were already turning their papers in...still on the third question.
I'm a visual learner, so I'd have to see the cows, the train, the track, the stockyard areas, the farmer, the money, and Chicago. And, what if the train broke down a couple of times...how long did that take?
I loved your analogy with the pictograph! Life can be Greek to me, for sure.
It was such fun. Thank you!!
The way any of these instructions are worded and laid out, and with every single screw, nut, bolt or washer having a specific designation -- G130259876 screws X4, D3428749A bolts X4, etc. -- it's a wonder that anyone, anywhere, can put together something simply through the worded instructions.
I learned a long time ago, via IKEA furniture, that the best way to go about it is looking at the diagrams and praying to St. Jude, the patron saint of desperate and lost causes. Oh, and to not do it around your significant other, because you'll be scrutinized the entire time you're doing it (though they, inevitably, will have the same issues READING the instructions as you did).
The last thing I constructed was a cat tree, about two months ago. The instructions were utterly worthless, and the diagrams didn't help diddly, either. I ended up using the picture on the box it came in, some of the little common sense I have, and trial and error to finally get it together. It's still standing, still supports the cats, and doesn't look like an abstract painting, so I think I did alright.
And, regardless of whether we're handy or not, we've all been in that spot of finding refuge somewhere during a project and doing our best imitation of The Old Man from "A Christmas Story." As Ralphie said, "My father worked in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay. It was his true medium, a master."
Fun fact about Lincoln Logs ... they were invented by Frank Lloyd Wright's son.
Awwwwwww ... You mean I’m not the only guy who can’t put anything together?
Hysterical!