Jimmy’s Nemesis

Me Knows Better Than to Say This… but I will.   There comes a time in every project when the homeowner needs to step back and leave it to the professionals.  Sound advice.  Too bad Jimmy wasn’t listening.

Several months before the birth of my daughter, my wife decided it was time to convert the spare bedroom into a nursery.  As an uninformed stupe, Jimmy later realized this was called the “nesting syndrome” and most intelligent men know it’s time to tread carefully – apparently hormones have something to do with this.  However, first time dad… no one told me. 

While she was painting up a storm, Jimmy decided, rather than help paint, that now was the best time to run a telephone line, cable TV and Ethernet into the room.  I still don't know what I was thinking.  That would be mistake number 1… I should have helped.  My logic: One bad cut now - screw up a fresh paint job.  This was a simple plan… pull back the baseboard, drill a hole, fish a wire, cut the box… job done.  I can still help paint after this job is finished.

Unfortunately the drill kept digging deeper into a much larger board than I anticipated so a new plan was hatched… drill at a different angle thereby missing the board completely.  Mistake number 2 was about to happen.  Jimmy snagged the edge of the carpet with the drill bit.  It was only a millisecond before releasing the trigger, but here’s a little factoid for those that don’t know:  It’s amazing how fast a spade bit can wind up Berber carpet… just a little touch and it was like a sweater unraveling and the drill winding up in a nice little skein of yarn. 

Jimmy cursed. “$*%#, I think the crib is going in this spot.” 

My wife winced, “There’s no need to do that job.  Help me paint.”

“I will, but this will take just take a second.  I don’t think I can get it from here so I'll  go downstairs and drill up.”

“But you can’t.  That’s the dining room below and my good wallpaper which I spent a fortune having professionally hung.”

“Ah… don’t worry.  I’ll go through the closet and cut a hole in the sheetrock.  I can put my arm in the wall, drill up and I’m through that board... in and out... piece of cake... can of corn.”

“But what about the new hole?”

“I can patch that.  No one will ever see it.”  That would be mistake number 3 for those counting.

Everything was going smoothly, but attempt number three just wouldn’t come together since they must have triple-headered that damn wall as the bit kept going and going and never broke through. Since I didn't want to run to the hardware store for a longer bit (mistake number 4), it was time to try another option.

Since going up was useless, perhaps a different angle from above was better after all.  Maybe if I went back to the original spot, pulled the carpet back this time (Berber carpet lesson learned since I'm not that stupid) and skimmed the ceiling below, I might hit my target. 

“Honey… go downstairs and watch the ceiling in the dining room.  Yell at me if you start to see a drill bit poke through the ceiling.”  That would be mistake number 5.

“OK… that didn’t work.  Since I have a hole in the closet, I could try that angle up instead.  That might work better.”

Finally my wife put her foot down.  “If you go through that wall paper…”  She didn’t finish the sentence so I knew she wasn’t all that serious about the threat.

  

Even with that ominous word of caution, Jimmy measured and calculated… used all his math skill available… put an “x” in the closet at just the right spot and started to drill… until he broke through.

“Uh oh… I shouldn’t be able to see light…  $%&#.”  That would be mistake number 6.

To her credit, my wife didn’t say a thing.  She put on her coat, left the house and went to a movie by herself.  Jimmy spent the next three hours patching holes and wallpaper.

***

A few years later, Jimmy hired a professional to finish the task.  “When you do this room, might I suggest you try a different route since that wallpaper is kinda special.”

“Oh, don’t worry sir.  We have this new feature called “Wireless.”  That would be mistake number 7.

Final tally:  House 7 – Jimmy 0.

Jimmy’s Crappy Luck

Me Knows Better Than to Say This… but I will.   Since electrical work is not Jimmy’s specialty, he decided to try his luck with minor deck construction.  Slapping boards together is not all that tough.  In order for a deck to be stable (not fall down for the non engineers in the audience), it is best to ensure that the ledger board is properly secured to the house. 

The ledger board work is a pretty simple task.  All it takes is a small drill, a 3/8” bit, a lag bolt, and a ratchet.  This is about the simplest job in all of deck construction… what could go wrong? 

Everything was going smoothly (which should’ve been my first warning sign)… tap the hole, insert the lag, and ratchet it into place.  Move to the next spot, redo above procedure.  A monkey could do this job… while eating a banana… it’s that simple.  On about lag number four, the resistance on the ratchet became much higher than normal.  Jimmy applied more force using several straining repetitions as he called upon his inner ape like strength, (saying a few curse words under his breath about those damn knots in the wood probably helped the most) until the object finally relented and gave way to the gradual click, click, click of the final few torque down twists with minimal effort. 

Holes five through ten were uneventful like the first three. 

Upon completion, Jimmy decided that something didn’t seem right… why would nine lags be so easy and only one so difficult?  What was different about lag number four?  Since the basement was not completed, it was easy to remove the insulation and inspect the various lags protruding into each and every preselected location… exactly where it should be.  Fail one…

As I removed the insulation from lag location #4, I purveyed a 4” diameter PVC pipe sucked up against the outside wall.  The lag pierced the object a mere 2 inches below the main floor.  Crap… hit the sewer drain pipe.  Me should know better.