Viewpoint: “Do(n’t) Do it Yourself”

    107

    By Laurie Frost

    The Almighty Dollar has ruled my life for many years now, making me do the same idiot thing over and over – try to fix my own stuff, sans a professional.

    I”ve cut my own hair, tinkered with my own appliances and even considered changing the oil in my car (an ”87 Chevy Cavalier named Howard), just so I could get the warm fuzzy feeling of looking over a do-it-yourselfer and saying, “Yeah, eat that, Car Repair Man!”

    But I”ve learned my lesson. Really, I have. As the granddaughter of a regular fix-it man, I”ll take it one step further: don”t even try to fix up the little things. And, by no means, should you buy something for the express purpose of fixing it up. This is called, in my family, a “GDS,” or, the “Granddaddy Special.”

    One of the best gifts we ever got for Granddaddy was the year we pooled our money and got him a bright red jumpsuit with “GDS” embroidered above the pocket and “BETTER THAN THE ORIGINAL” emblazoned on the back.

    A GDS has a few common traits:

    One: It must be an “improvement” on something that already works just fine.

    Two: It has to involve some sort of household item, not normally intended for that purpose.

    Three: It has to look a lot worse than when you started.

    One of the most vivid memories I have of a GDS is the time Granddaddy decided the receiver of his phone (in the shape of a ”42 Dodge Convertible) was uncomfortable to hold in your hand. So, he taped a double-sided sponge – yellow side out – to the top of the little car-convertible handset.

    I”ll come clean. I had a GDS myself, just a couple of months ago.

    It all started when I went to Claire”s to buy cheap, gaudy jewelry in large quantities. I looked at a picked-over display and finally saw this little tin box thing that looks like an old-time cigarette case and is supposedly going to replace the wallet. This one stood out in that it was particularly ugly, covered in green and black beads, with an occasional spattering of square green plastic gems.

    I bought it for $3.25.

    On closer inspection, I realized that it was absolutely vomitous, but I thought I could chip off the beads and gems and then appliqu? something cool on it, like magazine clip-outs or old wallpaper. (GDS Justification, Part 1: The proposed project will be an improvement on this object.)

    When my roommates got home that evening, I was chiseling the beads off with the assistance of a blunt butter knife and a little crescent wrench as a hammer. (GDS Justification, Part 2: This project must involve a household item, not normally intended for this purpose.)

    I had gone temporarily insane to make this dang thing look the way I wanted it to. When I finally stopped, the thing was only cleared off a third of the way – the beads weren”t welded on with any ORDINARY glue – and the couch and I were covered in a fine bead-dust powder. (GDS Justification, Part 3: This looks a lot worse than when I started.)

    I shoved case, butter knife and crescent wrench under the coffee table, where they have resided in peace ever since.

    Until my roommates found it. The other night I came home and saw a tangible reminder of my idiocy sitting placidly on the coffee table, just staring me in the eye.

    Please, for the love of your respect, don”t fall victim to a GDS. If it needs a professional, let them take care of it. If it doesn”t, leave well enough alone.

    Now, if you”ll excuse me, I”ve got to go see about changing the oil in my car …

    Laurie Frost is a metro editor for The Daily Universe.

    Print Friendly, PDF & Email