My Grandfather was a skilled man. He practically built the house my Dad grew up in. I never remember a visit to Grandpa’s house where he couldn’t be seen working on something, building something or putting scaffolding up around something to build it or work on it.
My Father is a skilled man. The man dug a basement under (yes under!) our existing home and completely re-built about 98% of the entire home. He can swing a hammer like it’s no one’s business and he can cut wood within 1/64 of an inch to create beautiful handmade wood furniture. He can sweat pipes, hang drywall, lay tile and probably repair planes, trains and automobiles, for all I know.
Then there’s me.
I once took apart my daughter’s bike to try to remove the pedal brake. Yeah. I don’t think you can do that. At least I know you can’t do it and then get the bike back together.
But, I think there may be hope. You see, Pete (my oldest son) has always wanted a gear-changing bike. Well, he found one on the side of the road in someone’s trash a few months ago. When he got it home, the chain was not only off the gears, but rusted so bad that it would barely move. I gave him a can of WD-40 and he went at it. That chain was very stubborn and I knew that even if he got it to loosen up, it would be quite a challenge to figure out exactly how to route a chain around all those gears.
Well, he kept at it and yesterday, I was absolutely floored to hear that he not only got the chain to loosen up, but he routed it back onto all the gears and then rode it around the driveway and sidewalk!
Who’s boy is this? Come get him before I claim him for myself. He can restore the Dare name after the damage I’ve done from my obvious lack of mechanical skills.
Good job, Pete. I’m proud of you, son.