
Of the editorial/opinion page staff
Published by the StarTribune
August 1, 1965
SOME OF MY BEST friends are plumbers and electricians. They've gotten me out of many a mess and have my enduring gratitude. I long ago learned that repair work was not my forte.
However, let me paint a lawn chair or push home a thumb tack and my wife brags about what a "good fixer" I am--and with no show of banter. Whenever there's anything to do, even to putting a new compressor in the furnace, she suggests that I take a whirl at it.
There was the case of the bathroom light switch. Months ago I knew it was on its way out. With increasing frequency, when you pushed the button it didn't engage. "One of these days," I sighed, "I'll have to shave the left side of my face in the dark because the light won't go on. Then we'll call the electrician."
"NONSENSE," said milady. "You can put in a new switch. It shouldn't be hard."
"It isn't. It's only hard when I do it."
But the more I thought about spending $5 or more to hire an electrician-- to do a job everyone assured me was simple--the more determined I became to tackle it. One day as a prelude I flung myself at a bedroom lamp long in need of a switch identical to the one required in the bathroom. A muff here would be no calamity.
After I'd finished, the lamp worked--for a wonder. I then conquered the bathroom light with a minimum of pain and looked around for more challenging tasks. One was close at hand. The toilet had an almost indiscernible leak, with the water in the tank rising close to the top and the float nearly submerged.
"Gotta have a new float," I said expertly. I got and installed one. The leak persisted. When thus confounded I seek help at the hardware store. Max heard me out, got pencil and paper, and drew a picture. He always draws pictures for me, knowing things must be plain.

For a trifling sum he sold me a circular, solid piece of rubber the size of a quarter. I thanked him and went away, torn by doubt. I never have been sure about the appearance and function of a valve.

I then decided to clean up a few more trifles. I got a new light bulb for the vacuum cleaner and a cord for the steam iron. Then the old sense of inadequacy returned. There was no clue as to how to install the bulb, a job I'd estimated would take but seconds, and a special trip to the store was required to get the word. Written instructions should come with all appliances. If they do, ours always get lost.
IT USED TO BE that an ironing cord was little more than an extension cord. It could be unplugged from the iron and easily repaired or installed. Those days are gone. The cord on ours is embedded in a mass of rubber and tightly affixed to the iron. It was here, of course, that the wires burned out.
Me install a new cord? Don't be silly. The orders of procedure I've been given would confound a master electrician. It will be simpler to buy a new iron with the money I save on light-switch and plumbing jobs.

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