When it comes to the world of creativity, I have learned that my talents generally lean toward destruction and disassembly rather than creativity and assembly.
In the construction and artistic world, I pretty well suck.
In high school days, our shop teacher literally begged me not to sign up for my senior year. He promised he would give me a passing grade of 51 per cent if I would simply copy another student’s blueprint rendering of some building and put finishing touches to the nightstand I had ben building over the previous three years with not much success.
I finished the nightstand, he looked at it with fear in his eyes. I took it home and it fell apart that summer. I copied Chad’s blueprints in full view of my sympathetic workmates and received the promised 51 per cent.
Things haven’t gotten any better. I am still an advocate of the old carpenter’s edict of “measure twice, cut once.” Of course I take the less talented path. “Measure once, sorta, and cut twice?
Last summer I joined three other people in a big storage shed takedown for a neighbour. I thought that task was right up my alley. This was a seek and destroy mission. I knew how to do that!
Fortunately, two of the other neighbour participants, Wes and John, knew what they were doing. It seems there is even a professional way to take things down. You have to cut things like beams and joists. I don’t know joists. I thought that’s what those old knights did when them donned armour and got hoisted onto horses and stuck those poles into each other while galloping in opposite directions. Apparently I was wrong. Joists are things that keep other things together … or something like that.
I was simply bent on destruction that day. So while the others did the neat work with saws and crowbars, I simply ripped and snorted and tore stuff apart and learned to get out of the way when roofing items started coming down. It was all rather fun and not once did I have to assemble anything with a hammer and nail or operate a saw.
I have come to the realization that carpenters, welders, brick and mortar contractors, plumbers and electricians are members of a secret society who are bent on keeping the likes of me out of their club. I mean the Masons started it didn’t they? Now, I’m not saying you belong to a cult if you can hammer two boards together and they’re still intact a year later, but there is something menacing about people who can install crown moulding and make it actually match with the length of a living room wall and ceiling. That’s not skill, it’s black magic manipulation in a dark underworld I’m afraid I will never be able to enter. It is regretful, but true. What is so sad is the fact that I am no longer interested in even trying to gain entry into that club, just to take a peek. I simply watch in pure wonderment as welded pieces of pipe get put together and they actually fit and function according to a master plan and there are people out there who are capable of looking at a blueprint and deciphering it without shedding even one tear or ripping it to shreds in a fit of anger.
Oh, that reminds me of the evening I attempted to assemble a simple kettle barbecue on a tripod stand many years ago. It took me two days, 1,346 swear words but I only kicked it once, so I was proud of my overall restraint. But that’s another story for some other time.
In the meantime, if you need something destroyed … give me a call. If it needs to be “disassembled” or built, please contact and contract the pros. Amateurs should not lay carpet or build gazebos.
