The Reluctant Carpenter

I didn’t want to replace it, but it had to be done, my bedroom window was shot, so ready or not I was going to be a carpenter.

I was not born with a hammer in my hand, my father was a duct tape man, and doing a legitimate repair job wasn’t something I had picked up from him. But with the help of books, the internet, and crazy neighbors I learned enough to keep my house from falling down around me.

Discount Windows in Junction City was the place to go when you needed a replacement window; they had funny commercials on TV, came highly recommended, and it’s always fun to see those crazy TV commercial guys in real life. A double paned aluminum mess of a window had lost its seal, and was full of gunk in between the panes. I had the time, and a little cash, so it was now or never.

I loaded up the boys (who were bugging me for milkshakes) into my Chevy Blazer and headed down the road. Junction City was a short trip and we found the place easily right off of highway 99. There they were, the guys from the crazy TV commercials, friendly guys, and they had the window that I needed for only $149. It was the last one I was told, I thought for a few seconds and said “SOLD!” I’m not one for passing up an opportunity when I see it.

“This is a $300 window” the salesman tells me as he looks through the panes.

“Yeah it looks like the one I originally looked at is the best one” the salesman tells me.

“Didn’t he say it was the last one?” I think to myself. No matter, it was still a good price and I needed it. I help him hoist it up onto the cargo rack on my Blazer. I got out the bungee cords and strapped it down, we hit the Dairy Queen for shakes on the way out (it’s what dads do), then started the slow and cautious ride home. I took it slow and easy to ensure my prize didn’t shatter by bumps before we got there.

Upon pulling into my drive way, Daryl one of my neighbors was outside. My oldest son and I started to wrestle the window into the back yard when I hear.

“I’ll help you get that put in, when you get ready” Daryl says.

“OK, I’ll take you up on that” I yell back.

Daryl is a certifiable nut case, but I needed someone to help me lift the window in place. The week before Daryl had been walking up and down the street barefoot upset over his botched vasectomy. He had some rookie doctor perform the procedure and he ended up with testicles the size of grapefruits, I did feel sorry for Daryl with his enlarged nuts, but any man would be sympathetic.

I made the mistake one morning of coming out of my door to get the newspaper, there was Daryl on his morning pity walk, and he saw me.

“Good morning Daryl” I say to him in a half awake, still need coffee sort of way.

Daryl heads strait for me saying “Can I have a hug?”

“Did somebody die?” I think to myself.

Daryl comes up to me with arms stretched and gives me a big hug.

“You’ve always been there for me” he says.

“Man, get back on your happy pills Daryl” I think to myself, or maybe he needs to get off of the happy pills. Either way some sort of medication issue has got to be causing this neurotic behavior.

When I needed a hand lifting the window, I called upon Daryl just long enough to get my window up and in place. The price was steep; I had to endure Daryl rambling something about Zen and the neighbor that threw fish on my roof, and him wanting me to mend relations with him. I’m sure Daryl smokes way too much pot on top of his pill problem.

I contort my face when he’s not looking I say “Yeah sure Daryl, I’ll get right on that buddy.”

I spend three days of hard labor pulling down a wall, installing the window, building a new wall, and reframing everything. Lots of sweat, scrapes, many ibuprofens, and being sore as hell, I now have a new window and wall. It still needs to be painted but I’m pretty damn happy with the results.

I’m avoiding crazy Daryl as much as possible, sometimes it’s hard because he has a thing for his wood chipper, and spends hours outside feeding it. *I shiver*

I know my dad is sitting on that cloud right now wondering why I didn’t just duct tape in a new window, but he would have been proud of the job that I did, I love you dad!

My Father's Revenge

10 funny things to do or not that will drive your adult children crazy after you die, or sitting on a cloud laughing your butt off at the show.

My father passes away a while back, he had a house in Portland Oregon and some of his last words to my sister and I was about his house. He smiled at me and said “it’s going to be a chore” and he wasn’t kidding…

My father had been plotting to get back at us for the headaches we gave him over the years, and we just didn’t know it. After we all arrived at the house that my sister and I had inherited (to assess the size of the chore, and to find the hidden bars of gold), we found that we did indeed have a chore. I was going to learn how to be a handy man whether I wanted to or not. We’re still looking for the gold. It’s got to be around here someplace.

If my dad had made a to-do list for his revenge it would have looked something like this:

1. Don’t put an exhaust fan above the stove. 40 years of accumulated bacon grease on the kitchen ceiling is handy. One of the door hinges in the house might start to squeak, or you might want to fry up some eggs. You just can’t have too much bacon grease.
2. Don’t throw away that junk mail from 1969. One day that Montgomery Ward’s advertisement featuring lawn chairs will be a collector’s item and the kids will be able to sell it on ebay.
3. Don’t throw away that mobile phone from 1985. You may want to jump start your car sometime and that battery pack would be just the ticket.
4. Do string electrical cords from one end of the house to other. No phone jack upstairs or in the bedrooms? Not a problem, as they make connectors and wires for that. Not enough outlets? Not a problem! That’s why they invented power strips and extension cords. And don’t forget the multi adapters!
5. Do use lots and lots of duct tape to do repairs around the house. (My dad would have fit right in at the Possum Lodge hanging out with Red Green.)
6. Do let possums live in your shed, they make interesting pets and really don’t mind when you move the box they’re sleeping in.
7. Do nail up some wood paneling and leave it there 40 years after the roof leaks and damages the ceiling,
8. Do stuff old socks in the cracks for insulation where cold air is blowing in through the rigged up repair job on a window upstairs.
9. Do cover the puddle of mystery goo on the floor of your old pickup truck with an old T-shirt.
10. And lastly, never, never, never clean or paint your bedroom walls. That layer of nicotine from the 70s when you smoked is a natural insect repellant.

We did find some stashes of treasure; my dad had a philosophy about watches, don’t buy a watch that costs more than $9.95. He always seemed to have a new watch, “all perfectly good, and only $9.95 at Walmart” he would say. We found the can that he kept all of his broken watches, some dating back to a Pre-Walmart time. I’m sure they were still purchased for under $9.95, and none of them were made of gold.

My sister and I loved our dad and we miss him very much. He was a good guy and everyone loved him. He had some lifelong friends that he could always count on, and they were always a source of entertainment for me. So dad, here’s to you, I miss you and I crack open a can of Hamms in your honor.