DIY and me? We just don’t get along.
I have to confess, that my DIY skills are not really up to much if I’m totally honest. DIY and me? We just don’t get along.
When it comes to manual labor, anything that involves fixing things, or anything mechanical or whatever, I should probably just leave well alone really.
Like the time in Cyprus when I was sitting on a low wall in the petrol/gas station chatting to my wife Lyn and soaking up a bit of sunshine whilst waiting for my car to be washed.
A little old guy drives in and pulls up alongside the air-line. He’s in a little tiny car, something like an old Fiat.
As we watch him, it’s obvious that he can’t figure out how to make the air-line work.
He just needs to set it to the right pressure and go ahead and pump up his tyres, but he just can’t figure it out. (Yes I know it’s spelt ‘tire’ in the USA, but that’s how us English folk spell it) :)
So anyway, I can’t bear to watch the poor old guy struggle any more and I go over to assist him.
I set the gauge to the right pressure and attach the air-line to his front tyre and start pumping it up for him, knowing that the bell will ring on the gauge when the tyre reaches the set pressure.
“There you go mate,” I say to the old guy, “not too difficult when you know how is it?”
He’s nodding appreciatively and can’t thank me enough.
You see, if you can help somebody as you pass along your way, well it just makes the world a better place.
Everyone in the petrol/gas station jumps about sixteen feet in the air and the old guy next to me is holding his chest and looking white as a sheet.
The English guy waiting behind in the queue for the airline screams…
“CHRIST ON A BIKE!”…”What The F#*k Was THAT!”
My wife Lyn had been watching the proceedings whilst still sitting over on the wall and I look over to her for support and see that she is walking swiftly away, with her head in her hands!
As the Cypriot garage owner comes rushing over, me and the old guy are staring down at his wheel-rim sitting on the concrete, surrounded by pieces of shredded rubber which were the remaining bits of his exploded tyre.
I’m just trying to explain to the old guy (still clutching his chest and gasping) that obviously his tyre must have been faulty, when the gas station owner looks at the pressure gauge and starts swearing in Greek (I learned a few Greek swear words while I was in Cyprus and the ones he was using were VERY naughty indeed)!
As far as I was concerned, I set the correct pressure, just at the same level as I always did quite safely for my own car, a Toyota Celica. I mean MY tyres never exploded.
Turns out this old guys’ little tyres held less pressure in them than a small child’s balloon. (Or so the Cypriot guy told me as he ranted away waiving his arms in the air).
I mean, ‘how was I to know?’, I thought, as I went off to look for where Lyn was hiding.
If I even so much as THINK about trying to help anybody with a DIY problem these days, Lyn gives me a withering look and pretty much physically drags me away!
So, OK, like I say, maybe I should just stick to internet marketing, making money from my various projects, helping others to do the same and I should probably just leave the DIY and manual stuff to folks who are good at it.
I’ll earn the money doing what I’m good at and just pay folks to do what they are good at.
Each to his own eh?
Enjoy the rest of your day folks. I’m off to hang some wallpaper.
Nah! Just joking. No bloody chance! I’d end up covered in wallpaper paste, or glue, or whatever the heck they use! :-)
Oh, by the way, the above little anecdote was taken from one of my monthly ‘Letters From A Small island!’ newsletters, where I share a few laughs with my happy band of readers, as well as some golden nuggets, tips and tricks about how I make a tasty enough income online from my home here on Magnetic Island.
If you’d like to come join us, you can subscribe to my newsletter at http://www.LettersFromASmallisland.com