Happy Hands at Home

Many, many years ago, I did a pitch for a small agency called Goodness Manufacturing. It was helmed by three guys from Crispin. Before CPB became CPB Creative. Or OmniFuck. Or whatever.

We, John Shirley and I, were brought in to compete against other teams before the new spec work was shown to the client, Craftsman Tools. We survived. They didn't. 

We thought it would be cool to heap praise upon the men and women in this country that use their hands to fix, build and otherwise manufacture things. And naturally with Craftsman Tools. We created The Order of Craftsman and blessed it with all kinds of pageantry, lore and celebration of camaraderie. 

John designed several T-shirts emblazoned with similar logos to the one seen in the picture above. Not just fro plumbing but for hanging lighting fixtures. Eliminating crabgrass. Cleaning out sewer lines.

My appreciation for people who courageously pick up and tool and say to themselves (sometimes foolishly), "I can do this" has only grown since that time.

I have spent the last 6 weeks at the short term rental house that was the former residence of my uncle -- the only gay man in Palm Springs with no sense of design. Or taste. It is a great winter escape. And should you be interested in spending time here, it is available. 

Well, almost. 

I have 4 bookings scheduled. And that meant cleaning up the place. As well as taking care of some repairs.

In the same way George Costanza hated to pay for parking, I detest spending money on hiring repairman. Especially when the stock market is falling in Olympic synchronicity with the president's approval rating.

And so, with the wrong hex bit attached in hand and a stupid willingness to fuck things up, I did what most Jews would not, I got handy.

My dog's water bowl used to sit by the baseboard. 

And because she's so sloppy, 

the water would get all over the place and rotted away the paint.

The baseboard got painted. And the dog bowl was moved.

A year ago, I spent a shit ton of money to replace the pool gate. 

With a fancy one with frosted glass.

It is not easy keeping up with the Chads, the Kyles and the Jasons,

 with their fancy Palm Springs accoutrement.

Unfortunately, the smart lock on the gate wasn't engaging properly.

I donned a pair of safety glasses and and my power drill 

and made that damn hole bigger...restrain...edit...refrain from making bad joke.

Finally, salmon skin, while tasty is very oily --the good oil. 

It can make a mess of the outdoor BBQ.

 So I tore the grill apart, briquette by briquette and slowly, but purposefully

returned the BBQ to its original factory shine.

Not all my home repair work produces such satisfying results, in fact my success rate is barely in the double digits. So when it does go right and things work out and nothing else gets broken in the process, you can be damned sure I'm gonna blog about it.