Mechanically Uninclined

Man stabs his roommate
for being too loud while
having sex with homeless woman.

Some people are mechanically inclined. I am not one of them. Show me any machine, no matter how simple, and I will either fail to make it go, or if I get it started at all, will have it quickly fail. I think this may have to do with the fact that I am basically afraid of machines. But maybe I am afraid of them because I can’t make them work. In any case, I’m hopeless when it comes to mechanical gadget s and machines. I am so hopeless my mechanic (who fortunately is also my friend) looks at me in awe when I show up with whatever latest failure I have experienced. He is a mechanical genius. He understands machines in a way that I cannot even comprehend. But living here at Sandhill (aka Sandpile) you cannot exist without machines of various kinds. My recent adventure with my little Lawn Tractor is a good example. Initially we had a bit of lawn so I bought this little tractor mower. But then we changed the front lawn into a flower garden (mostly because I did not like to mow it). Even without a lawn I need a lawn tractor as the weeds here in our garden grow at a rate I suspect is unprecedented elsewhere. At least some of them can be mowed, if, that is, you can get the lawn mower to work. After spending the winter in an unheated garage the battery was dead. As this was not the first year of this problem the battery was not only dead it was truly dead. I had to buy a new one. I installed it. But I could not see how to connect the cables as the posts (or whatever they are called) seemed to be encased in plastic and the cables could not be attached. I asked my mechanic how to connect them. He looked at me with contempt (fortunately a kind of loving contempt) and lifted off the plastic covers that protected them. Fine, I started to mow. The ground in one of our two gardens is quite uneven so I did not immediately notice one of the back tries went flat. The hydraulic jack would not work. I guess it was out of fluid. Using a combination of levers and blocks I managed to raise the side enough to remove the wheel. But, alas, unlike anything I had ever seen before, it was not held on by lug nuts. There was a kind of “C” clamp that seemed to hold the wheel in place. I could not figure out how to remove this clamp without potentially breaking it. I appealed once again to my mechanic friend. He gave me a special tool for removing such things, but warned me that as the wheel had been on there for years it would be difficult to get it off the axle. He was right. I took me at least 40 minutes before I succeeded. I took the wheel to our local Les Schwab and it was repaired. It took me about half an hour to mount it again (there is a real art involved in using this special tool). Proudly I set out to mow, and mow I did, marvelously, for at least ten minutes. Then I carelessly ran over some old chicken wire that I forgot I had not picked up. This, of course, fouled the mowing blade so badly it refused to work. I ran the tractor up on some planks so I could peer under it. It took me a good hour to untangle the wire and free the mechanism. You have no idea how hard this is on 80 year-old knees and legs. I abandoned mowing for the day and took refuge in a huge martini.

I would like to say this was a unique event, a once in a lifetime kind of problem. But it wasn’t, for me it was pretty typical. When first I moved here I wanted to garden so I needed a roto tiller. You know, the ones you see in the pictures with the beautiful young woman walking alongside her tiller preparing the soil for the marvelous garden she is about to plant, steering the thing with one hand. What they don’t tell you is that this only works if you want to make a furrow on level ground completely around the world with no bumps, hills, or turns. If there are such bumps, hills and turns, it is virtually impossible to manage a large tiller unless you have Herculean strength. Then I decided to garden with small, raised plots. I bought a Mantis tiller. You know, the one you see advertised that moves swiftly across the fertile ground, making gardening a joy. However, they only show you this tiller in use on already prepared soil. If there is any grass or weeds they immediately clog the tines and make the tiller useless, until you spend an hour or two on hands and knees trying to unclog the thing. In all fairness I must say that the Mantis tiller is the greatest machine I have ever owned (at least so far). It starts, it runs fine, it does its job, and I love it (or course I have learned to use a shovel to prepare the ground before even attempting to till it).

It’s the same with all my machines. I have a gas operated string mower. I had an electric one but as it needed a cord so long it was impossible I had to change to a gas one. I can’t get it started. Not ever. My wife can start it. I don’t understand this but that is how it goes. I have a great chain saw. I love it. But I can rarely get it to start. My neighbor or my son can start it immediately. Once it goes it really works fine. Once I had a gas powered outboard motor. It wouldn’t start, and when it did, it quickly died. I bought an electric motor. The battery died because I didn’t use it often enough. Some fool once gave me a battery operated shoe polisher, the ultimate in ridiculous, useless, nonsensical machines. I refused to use it, knowing the batteries would almost surely fail. I will not even attempt to tell you of my experiences with autos, trucks, computers, telephones, toasters, microwaves, and other such newfangled gadgets. There are some people who should not be allowed to have machinery of any kind. Unfortunately, I am one of them. But as an Italian friend once said to me, “but how can you leeve without them?” Sigh.

LKBIQ:
The real problem is not whether machines think but whether men do.
B. F. Skinner

TILT:
The average life expectancy of a camel is 40 to 50 years.