Open Writing

What does one have to do to graduate as a Handyman? Wives say, 'Jack is so wonderful with handyman jobs.' Or, 'I leave everything to my Bert; he is so clever with his hands.' My wife remains silent.

For example; I decided to hang a picture. Very professionally, I gathered pencil, paper, tape and a ladder. Holding the tape against the wall, I called El Suprema to hold the end for me. I climbed down, thanking her. Then I forgot the measurement, climbed the ladder again and called her back a second time. She gave me a look that only wives can give, and then wrote the measurement down to be sure.

This was tiring work so I made a coffee and sat to rest and plan. With a caffeine-inspired thought, I realized I needed a second measurement from another picture on the wall, (installed by Jack, or Bert or whoever; just in case you are wondering).

I recalled the little lady. She looked very angry with her wet hair wrapped in a towel.

Through the women's gossip bridge club I knew my mistakes would be passed on to Jack and Bert. I knew how to deal with them. I had survived years in the commercial jungle where the secret of success is to cover your desk with computer printouts; walk very hurriedly around the office building, with a serious look, and always carrying a large file under one arm. A file is an essential authoritative, status symbol; like a doctor festooning his neck with a stethoscope to dispel any possible doubts that he really is a doctor after all.

I spent hours at my desk composing important phrases for future self-preservation: thus whenever a peer made a suggestion at a meeting and the Managing Director asked for my opinion, I always had a put-down answer. One up-manship is the name of the game.

'Well, I'm afraid his suggestion is completely flawed because, obviously, he has not given the slightest consideration to the criterion-referenced curriculum implications.'

Or, 'He has overlooked the inter-disciplinary departmental priorities.'

Or, ' He has ignored the budget-conscious resource dynamics.'

Or, 'Well, he must start with the meaningful organizational initiatives.'

The words can be swapped for variation, thus: 'The inter-disciplinary budget-conscious organizational initiatives.'

Brilliant stuff!

The others, especially the Managing Director, were too embarrassed to show their ignorance of what I was talking about and never asked, which was just as well as I had no idea of what I was talking about either. I gained a reputation for being very intelligent, well researched, and the voice of learned authority. This always brought a nice bonus at Christmas.

But the picture installation. On the ladder, I threaded the thin nail through the metal hanger hole and whacked it with a hammer. I hit it again; it bent in half. I had to use pliers to pull it out. An avalanche of plaster fell to the floor. The hole, becoming a crater, disappeared. So did the nail. And the hanger. Never found them to this day. When descending the ladder, the pliers and the hammer fell off the top step with a loud bang onto the floor, nearly braining me en route.

Second attempt; the nail bent again but, cleverly, I knocked the end upwards. The picture is up, tending to slide to starboard admittedly, but easily rectifiable with a small bit of chewing gum stuck on the back, and the picture covers the incriminating crater in the plaster-work on the wall very well.

One day Bert told me, rather patronisingly, that he had bought a compact electric pressure washer, knowing I would not understand. He was right, but was unaware that in commerce I had eaten the Berts of this world for breakfast.

'Really? Which model did you buy?' I asked. This stumped him but, undeterred, he replied rather lamely 'The one with 1300 psi.'

'That's a performance not a model,' I guessed and retorted, crushingly.

In fact I have no idea what a psi is. I have never seen a psi. Never been introduced. I would not know a psi if I met one in the street.

Then I added the experienced knock-out blow, the king-hit. It was cruel really. 'Oh lord! I hope you bought the latest updated model, 'the Mark 5-A. It has that new tungsten-backed, fibrinating, anti-veticulated, return-spring installation. The old models were falling to bits.'

Bert replied with vehement indignation 'Of course I bought that latest, updated model. Do you think I'm stupid?'