I'm Your Handy Man

 

Hey girls, gather round,

Listen to what I’m puttin’ down,

Hey baby, I’m your handy man*

 

I worked as a lawyer for thirty years and have been writing for the past ten. So, why do I feel I also have to be handy around the house?

I might blame my father – a child of the Great Depression, a World War II veteran, and a steelworker. But after giving it some thought, I couldn’t remember him tackling many do-it-yourself projects. Usually, he would call a neighbor who had some skills. For bigger projects, he would bring in a contractor. I do remember him trying to fix a leaky water pipe, more for the swear words I learned than for his plumbing expertise. The one project he seemed to enjoy was his backyard vegetable garden. But the pleasure he got out of it may have been that it helped reduce the cost of feeding five growing boys. I recall that he abandoned the garden not long after his boys grew up and moved out.

Besides what I picked up from my father, I learned a few more handy man skills from my junior high shop classes. Since becoming a homeowner, I have put those skills to use with varying degrees of success. In my first house, I designed and built a utility table that I am still using forty years later. I installed a fluorescent light fixture in our next home and successfully replaced a leaky water line valve without near the number of expletives my father reserved for plumbing jobs. I even replaced a hot water tank at a friend’s house once upon a time.

On the other hand, I nearly wrecked our car while performing a do-it-yourself oil change when I failed to block the tires and the parking brake let loose. Sheer luck and a skillful tow truck operator prevented that project from being a complete disaster. Then there was the time I adjusted some valves on our hot water heating system. I didn’t correct the problem I was trying to fix, so I ended up calling a plumber anyway. He told me my adjustments could have caused our boiler to blast off like a rocket. His advice to me?

“You’re a lawyer, I’m a plumber. I won’t try to do your job, and please don’t try to do mine.”

My late father-in-law put it even better. “The shoemaker’s children have to eat, too.”

That’s true for any type of project that requires some professional expertise. I recently called a contractor when the towel rack in our bathroom fell after a previous attempt on my part to do-it-myself. Now the towel rack is solidly on the wall without fear that a wet towel will cause its downfall. And the damaged drywall has been perfectly restored.

Sure, there are a few jobs around the house for which I would be embarrassed to call a contractor, such as hanging a picture. But the number of those jobs continues to decrease as I get older and, perhaps, wiser. Maybe, I’ve finally come to the realization that I’m not your handy man. 

 

*Written by Jimmy Jones and Otis Blackwell, 1959