I know that some people would say that my most recent post could be compared to the story of the "boy that cried WOLF". I say, whatever conclusion that you made while reading is not my fault. You shouldn't jump to conclusions. Besides, this was the second time that some of you fell for my little writing deception. I don't feel for you, BOO HOO!
So, I'll give it to you straight. We've had another death in our house. I haven't even told my wife about it yet.
And I'm worried because "they", whoever "they" are, say that stuff like this comes in threes.
My favorite power drill died today. A few weeks ago it was my wide screen TV, now it's my power drill. What's next? My chop saw, my IPod, say it won't be my computer.
And yes, Ladies, I know what you're thinking. How could you be so upset over a power tool? Well, this particular drill has been around longer than my relationship with the wife. And yes, it is just a tool, but I'm a guy and so simple that if it was left up to me I'd drive a Jag and live in a grass hut like Gilligan. And yes, I'm more Mary Ann than Ginger.
Take an informal poll among your guy friends and they'll tell you. They'll tell you that they are very loyal to their tools. Sure, I have two more drills in my power tool arsenal, a Black & Decker corded unit that holds my Sears Quick Lock drill chuck and a Black & Decker cordless 18v that came as part of a kit. Okay, I admit that I use them occasionally, small jobs, and quick jobs, for the little things. But my old drill was like the Lone Rangers horse Silver, reliable. Our relationship was like Timmy and Lassie, peanut butter and jelly, Batman & Robin, butter on popcorn, Gilligan and the Skipper, Siegfried & Roy, okay, not Siegfried & Roy. But we were close.
Right now it's at the bottom of a waste basket at my church, where, appropriately it died, drilling through the mortar between bricks, just so I could hang a white board. And yes, they make noises when they die. Grinding, friction, and sparks. Lots of sparks!
Oh, the inhumanity.
And no, it wasn't the prettiest girl at the dance, but it could dance! It never ran out of power like the cordless, unless of course, I unplugged it. Sure it wasn't as smooth and light as the B&D corded, but, I ALWAYS GOT FROM IT WHAT I ASKED FOR. It never gave up. And in the end it just quit. Froze up harder than Walt Disney in his cryogenics Popsicle suit. I held it gently while I pulled the plug out of the outlet one last time. My fingers caressed the cord, bandaged with electrical tape in order to cover the many cuts, nicks and slices that it experienced over its long, long life.
This, my friends, is what they refer to as "durable goods". I loved it. There, I said it. I loved it more than any tool I have ever owned. Certainly more than any hammer, more than the dozens of screwdrivers that have been a part of my toolboxes over the years, more than any single socket or ratchet set I have ever owned.
Now, I have to choose a new favorite tool. Very difficult, very trying times. I'll have to spend some times with my individual tools, get to know them, see what they're made of, and put them through a few challenges. And in the end I'll have a new favorite tool. In a few days I'll wander out to the garage and get back in the game. You can't hurry things like this.
But it won't be the same. I'll never use a drill again without thinking about my ol' Skil, I'll use my other drills but they'll never replace this drill.
And a part of it is still with me, the chuck key works with my Black & Decker corded.
Do you think I can get bereavement leave from work for this?
I think I need counseling.