Also, I am quick. I hate procrastination. When something is broken, I want to fix it NOW. I am not a patient man. And as a bonus, I will have a good chance of having just the right repair part on hand in my workshop. I never throw anything out. I always save bits and pieces of everything that crosses my workbench. You never know when that little funny shaped piece of metal or plastic will come in handy. But there are occasions when even I find it necessary to order a part from the manufacturer, because the part needed is so specialized that even I, with all my skills and expertise, with all my design ability and inventiveness, must bite the bullet and not let having to order a part test my manhood and jeopardize my place in the Mr. Fixit Association.
The previous two paragraphs are actually an introduction to the last home repair fix up job that the boss added to my list of chores (a list that, by some voodoo magic, never gets shorter). At least I wasn't the cause of the problem. Honestly, I was all the way in the kitchen sneaking a cookie when she pulled the shade down, breaking the hanging bracket that was holding the shade in place. By the sound of it, you would have thought that Armageddon was nigh. The general racket that overlaid the distinct thud of gravity putting an end to the shade falling on the table below and knocking over the lamp which then crashed on the floor, was nearly drowned out by the surprising shriek that spewed from her surprised mouth accompanied by some wonderfully colorful language that would make a longshoreman blush. (You never really know your spouse until she gets the chance to show how inventive her cursing can be.)
You would think that just replacing a hanging bracket so you can rehang the shade is one of the simpler tasks that any Mr. Fixit would have to do. Most of us who claim to have the skills to claim the Mr. Fixit title, could probably perform the installation one handed with our eyes closed.
But don't ever assume that any job is going to go smoothly by default. There are too many ways that the imps of mayhem can screw you when you least expect it. This new bracket replacement proved to be the repair job that nearly took me down, replacing my arrogance with a good dose of humility.
It all began to go sideways when, after a close inspection, I determined that the best way to proceed was to give up the idea of making my own replacement part and order the bracket from Hunter Douglas, the maker of the injured shade. One of my few shortcomings is the inability to understand the Internet and how everyone else in the world but me has no problem with it. So I turned the online research and probable purchase over to my personal assistant/secretary/office manager/purchasing agent/financial manager/editor/critic/boss/ wife and lover. She did her thing with that electronic box that sits on the desk gathering dust, and found almost instantly,the requisite replacement bracket for the Hunter Douglas Silhouette shade that we were dealing with. So far so good, right? Now it gets going faster sideways. We would have to wait approximately two, ( count 'em, two) weeks for them to arrive. Apparently the good folks at Hunter Douglas don't have the infrastructure to handle such a demanding order (maybe they don't understand the Internet either). I have difficult time understanding how it can take so long for something as little, simple, and on hand in the warehouse to get from there to here. When Mary buys anything online, the package is on the back stoop almost before she is done ordering. But we were at the mercy of Mr. Hunter and Mr. Douglas ( the company name would be Douglas Hunter if he had won the coin toss), and had no choice but to order their brackets for their shade which I wanted to hang again in my window. What do you think two little plastic pieces of molded plastic cost? Or maybe I should ask, "what are you willing to pay for two little pieces of molded plastic?" Would you pay a couple bucks? How about a fiver? Would you spring for that much? Under the circumstances I was willing to go five or six bucks. The shysters who had all the power in this debate decided that $9.99 a pair would suit them nicely. Plus shipping. Don't you just love it when someone blind sides you with an outrages price and you have no way to retaliate? I felt used. I mentioned earlier that I am not a patient man. So waiting two weeks to receive those parts was a real test of my ability to wait to get something done. I wanted it all to be fixed and back to normal NOW. Everyday I would have to walk past that unshaded window and feel another stab in my psyche. The fact that it was costing me most of my weekly allowance was just rubbing it in.
Well, the hangers finally arrived. In a petulant state at being so abused by the whole transaction, I refused to open the box until after dinner that evening. Ok, so it wasn't much of a statement since the box arrived at 5:00 PM and we eat our evening meal at 5:30 PM. But at least I made my point. Once the box was opened and the contents examined, I realized that I knew how the Hunter Douglas company made a profit in their business. They say that the one bracket package costs $9.99. What they don't tell you is that each pack holds a pair of brackets. As in two brackets in each pack. Mary assumed we would need two packs, each with one bracket inside, so we would be able to hang the shade with matching hangers. So now we had 4 brackets at a cost of $19.98. Plus shipping. Plus tax. Those clever shade makers were shady in their dealings. Now I not only felt abused by doing business with those two named Hunter and Douglas, but I could feel a stiff breeze blowing out of the newly reamed hole they provided for me that should take care of the constipation that chronically plagues me.
But back to the simple job of replacing a shade hanging bracket. Finally with bracket in hand, I was able to study the part up close to determine my next step. The only problem with having the bracket in hand to study it, was that I had to hold it in hand to study it, because those wacky guys who made the bracket assumed that the part was so simple and so easy to understand and install that they felt no instruction sheet was necessary, nor was one provided. I hate to admit that I was flummoxed by that little plastic piece. For the life of me, I could not understand how the hanger was supposed to relate to the shade and how the bracket needed to be placed so that the result would be a shade hung from the top window frame, ready to be released by the cords that hung alongside it, thus fulfilling its stated purpose. I turned it upside down. No that wouldn't work. I even tried to get it to do its job sideways, but that was just stupid. I tried to get it to cooperate by whispering sweet endearments to it while caressing it as a lover would, but that just embarrassed me when Mary caught me licking it behind the flange that seemed to play an important role in the successful application of the bracket. When all that TLC failed to provide the desired effect, I switched to the opposite approach and began my bad cop routine, hoping to scare the shit out of my little plastic adversary. I cursed at it, called it nasty names, impugned its history, questioned its ancestry, threatened to melt all its siblings over a candle flame, got right up in its face, spewing my spittle at what I imagined was its eye. I slowly turned away from it, then snapped back suddenly hoping to catch it making funny faces at me, ridiculing my inept attempts at unlocking its secret. Then just as I was about to fling it across the room, hoping to shatter it against the wall into a million useless pieces (remember, I had extras on hand), I had an epiphany. The proverbial light bulb above my head flashed brightly, while a sigh of relief calmed my soul. I figured it out just before my standing in the Mr. Fixit hierarchy was threatening to slide into oblivion.
I set about placing the brackets in position only to find Mother Nature interfering with my efforts. You see, I had waited too long to get the job started. The west facing window I was working on was directly in the glare off the setting sun. I was blinded by the light. Now that I had finally gotten ready to finish the now two week old project that had tested my patience, I was stymied by the sunshine. But I felt so relieved that I had solved the puzzle and validated my creds as a
handyman, that I didn't mind waiting a little bit longer. Patience is indeed a virtue.