Near and minor injury

Getting older means, among other things, being more careful about little stuff. Stuff such as picking up your feet when you walk.

Hiking around the neighborhood the other day I nearly went end over end when I hit my left foot against a slightly high section of sidewalk. I managed to keep my balance, not falling even though I took a couple drunk looking steps regaining my balance. Laughing as I got back to walking properly, I reminded myself that, particularly as Woodbridge and the Wayne State University area have their share of uneven walks, I really should pick up my feet as I go along. Or at least pay better attention to where I'm headed.

But wait, there's more. As I took my glasses out of my pocket when I arrived at the old barn with morning exercise over, I pinched my finger between the earpiece and the lens as I went to put them on. I tell you I drew blood. Putting my glasses on. Can you imagine that?

I would should you but it's my middle finger and, you know, decorum.

Engine, Engine

I was sitting with an old friend last night, I'll call him Ron just to give him a name, who was lamenting his recent car repairs. $2300 for this and $8000 for that. Expensive stuff.

Then I did the math. His engine repairs cost more than five times, yes, five times what I paid in 2019 for my new old van.

Actually, it would be a bit more than five times his repairs. My new old van only cost me $1700.

Dang.

Thursday Fun

Did you hear about the guy who was stealing appendages from the mannequin factory?

He was found guilty of armed robbery.

Look, I didn't sleep well last night, okay?

Once More Unto The Breach

Do you remember when I lamented folks who have several screws loose? Why, it was only a few days ago.  I asked, how can they not see screws out in the open coming loose?

Someone apparently read that and said, hold my beer. 

A man came into the Shop yesterday, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, asking if I could reinstall the caster on the front of his drain machine. "Sure. Bring it in, Cloyce."

A minute later Cloyce was back in my door, dragging the machine along behind him. He stopped it just inside and handed me a perfectly fine wheel. "I don't know how it came off, Cosgriff."

Let's see. Exactly where it should mount on the base of the unit were four empty, threaded holes. Empty, completely undamaged holes, the 1/4-20 threads pristine. They would not require re-tapping. No pieces of broken bolt were evident, as you might expect if, say, a machine had been hit or dropped. No bent frame, no residue of the old bolts having been ripped out. Just four open holes where the wheel attached. And Cloyce didn't know how it happened, how that wheel could have come off.

I held the caster in place with one hand as I started four new bolts with the other before tightening them with a screwdriver. "What do I owe you Cosgriff?" he asked, a look of genuine fear and dread in his voice, as though it had been a truly difficult and time consuming job.

"Oh, nothing, Cloyce, we do enough business." What can I say? I felt generous.

You would have thought I had rescued him from the jaws of Hell by the growing look of pure joy on his face. "Oh, thank you, thank you, Cosgriff!" he exclaimed, gripping my hand and shaking it fiercely, he was so excited. "I don't what I would have done without you!"

Uh, maybe go to any hardware anywhere and spend 75 cents on common bolts and lock washers? You might have also gotten a standard flathead screwdriver for installation purposes and perhaps leave that in your toolbox in case it might ever be needed again.

I was cool yesterday, Cloyce. But next time it'll cost ya. Not that he would learn anything from it.

Four Hundred Pounds Plus

Me Pops had a lot of great stories about his time in the welder rental and drain snake business. I hope to one day tell them all. One that just popped back into the front of my mind today involved the biggest man Dad ever dealt with. He was a good guy just the same, genuinely helpful and gregarious. But he was big. And he had the strong to go with his size. I'll leave exactly how big and strong to your imagination. But think bigger than you think big is.

To give an example of his size and strength, there was a job where me Pops was delivering welders along with the heavy cables necessary to weld with. These cables weighed a touch over a pound a foot. That particular day Dad had several 200 ft. lengths to deliver.

Guys were coming up to the back of Dad's truck and doubling up, two to a cable, to carry them over to the tool crib. Big Jim walked up and offered Pops a shoulder. "Put one there, Bill," he instructed.

"They're two hundred footers, Jim."

"Put one there," he replied simply, wagging his shoulder at the old man. So Dad did, setting it down as gently as he could. Then Jim turned about and said, "Give me another," indicating his empty shoulder.

"They're all two hundreds," Dad reminded him. Jim replied, "Give me another."

So me Pops set another cable on that shoulder. Big Jim walked away with more than 400 pounds of welding cable on his shoulders as though taking a stroll in the park.

I want him on my side in a rumble.

Quarter by Inch and a Quarter

I sometimes wonder what my kids will think when the time comes to clean out the old barn. It likely won't matter to me at that point. Still, the thought about their thoughts about what they will discover at the Shop at that time does intrigue me.

Will they be as impressed as I am at the five foot tall crescent wrench me Grandpa Joe acquired from somewhere? The two ton electric hoist: will it cross their minds how many welding machines were raised down, in Joe's parlance, over the years? Parts for drain snakes will surely greet them, parts they won't have a clue as to what they're for or how they work or if they should be scrapped, or sold to a needy plumber.

Then there's the box of several, yes, several thousand quarter by inch and a quarter roll pins. I can't imagine any other thought except, what in the world would the old man need those for?

They have their use. Honest. But I'd be happy if the kids simply stuck a few in their pockets as keepsakes. 

Screw Loose

I ought to be far past the point where it would surprise me, but I'm not. You just think that maybe, just maybe, there might be hope for humanity, that things might change. Of course, they don't.

A customer at the Shop the other day came in to have me put a chuck on his machine. The bolts which attach a handle to the unit were loose. Way loose. So loose in fact that the handles were nearly falling off. "Could you tighten those for me, Cosgriff?" the customer asked.

I don't mind doing that per se. What astonished me is how he could have let them get so loose to begin with. That kind of thing doesn't happen overnight. You never noticed it before now? And you're a professional. You have tools. Why didn't you tighten them up eons ago? 

I've seen this with gear cases on certain drain snakes. The case cover is fastened to the machine with six bolts. All six would be loose by several threads, actually leaving a visible gap between the gear case and the gear case cover. Yet the customer would cry and pout to me about the cost of replacement gears because the old gears had ground down to nothing because the gear oil had all leaked out of the gear case because those bolts were clearly loose. It never occurred to you that bolts set in place to attach something to something should actually be made to attach to that something?

I'm not the best myself at certain chores but I know enough about screws and bolts to understand they should be properly tightened and to see when they are not. Yet after 50 years in the old barn folks still come in with absurdly loose connections and then ask, almost as an afterthought, "Oh, could you tighten those?"

Yes I can. But you really didn't think far enough ahead to tighten them before you came to see me? Some things are just beyond explanation.