I‘m not the world’s most inept handyman. That would be my mentally-challenged twin Duane, who this morning rose early to fix a leaking shower faucet and spent the remainder of the day cursing and stripping nuts with a crescent wrench and mopping up water and purchasing valves that turned out to be just a teeny bit different from what was required. A job that might normally take 20 minutes ended up taking about five hours, counting trips to the hardware store. Technically it’s still not over, since Duane should probably return a certain $12 valve instead of throwing it with a guttural scream into the neighbor’s yard.
Duane has done some damage over the years. Once he undertook to fix a used-but-still-serviceable washing machine. A few hours later, he was tipping it from the back of his pickup into the local landfill. Another time, years ago, he thought to cover an entire kitchen wall in Z Brick®. Duane still remembers the noise Z Brick® makes when it falls to the floor in the middle of the night.
Duane once owned a Sears Craftsman lawnmower that was hard to start. After pondering the problem and employing all the skills as his disposal, Duane transformed it into a lawnmower that was impossible to start. It soon joined the washing-machine in the graveyard of good intentions.
One day, Duane may dump his tools in there as well. But for now, there’s a strange silence that is making him forget the travails of the day, that may, against all reason, lead him to consider other ill-advised projects in the future. It is the silence of the shower faucet. No longer dripping.