Manning the Home by Unhandy Man

Now, as a guy, I've got pride. Oodles of it. In fact, the last time I checked I had as much of it as I could stand. And I think as much as you out there. That does include the ladies. Even though, I don't think female pride is the same as male pride. We might have to discuss that at a later date. But pride took a hit when I had to become a handyman around our huge, 15 year-old, slowly crumbling, gated-community house.

I know, I know. Wah, wah, weep, weep. Everybody's got it tough these days. But this handiness doesn't come natural for a guy like me. Growing up, my Dad, bless his heart, told me the only way to get things done around the house, besides asking Mom, was to do it right the first time: hire a professional. So I grew up with the ideal of, other than changing light bulbs (I'll get to that later), call in the pros.

Living in my 700 square foot townhome for 10 years, I was able to put projects on the back burner. Probably because the front burner didn't work. Avoiding problems like leaking dishwasher (wash by hand!), broken garbage disposal (don't need it!), warped front door (use the back door!) and faded paint ( big murals and low lighting!), well, it was a full-time job. I still have to sit down with a cold lemonade when I think of all the home improvements I didn't improve.

I usually had a few fellow prideful guys over for a meaty BBQ, adequate amounts of liquor and tool-talk. Not that tool, perv, but the tools that one would use to fix things. You know, hammers, screwdrivers, nail-guns, etc. The things that I don't possess. Well I have a few laying around. Kind of rusty, though. I would see who had the most illustrious tool-set and decided he would be my best pal if he "could only help me this once." That worked for awhile. Until I nearly went broke feeding and partying with my "best pals." I used them for fix-ups, they used me for food and booze.

So, I got married instead. And boy, moving into a home that was only a few years old I figured things would take care of themselves. My wife is a fixer-upper and my new stepson looked more mechanically inclined than, well, a mechanic. I was finally able to relax, enjoy and avoid. Avoid the hassles of overflowing toilets (low water consumption), chintzy metal blinds (plantation shades) and keeping the yard green (well, I still get to do that, but not many tools to use).

However, the dream bubble burst and stuff started to bubble and burst. Getting back to that manly pride that took a hit, I had to absorb the punishment and try to become a handy-dandy or a fixxy-uppy or whatever. Hopefully all my how-to-nots and what-fors will amount to a more harmonious home and hearth. Or fire escape. And by the way: pass the lemonade. With vodka.


Here are a few subjects to enlighten the unenlightened:

* How to Improvise (the proper use of duct tape)
* How to Turn a Small Job into a Huge Job
* How to Complete a Job. On Your Terms.
* How to Keep Injuries to a Minimum
* How to Shop at a Home Repair Store and Not Get Lost

Keep in mind that this is a work in progress and the outline is still under construction. My team that I have assembled is busily scratching its collective head and trying to come up with something clever. This will be an ongoing feature here and only here. Please remember:
don't try this at your home. Visit your neighbor and bring some tools.