A manly weekend

I've never claimed to be particularly handy. Actually, I've frequently said just the opposite. Carpentry and I go together like peanut butter and asparagus.
When my dad and I successfully built a coffee table a few years ago it was less a sign of my skill with hammer and nails than it was a evidence there truly is a higher power in the universe and he really wants me to have sturdy furniture.
Still, I am a man and thus not entirely immune to the lure of power tools. If Tim Allen and the inexplicably long-running sitcom Home Improvement have taught us anything — and I would argue they haven't — it's that all men are drawn to heavy equipment on a genetic level.
My dad and I spent New Year's Day working on our second furniture project. I realize hoping for two successful efforts in less than a decade might have been a little ambitious, but the sofa table we built seems sturdy enough. And it's definitely attractive enough for the location I have in mind, tucked in behind a couch where nobody will ever see more than its top.
Last weekend I decided to push my luck. I didn't necessarily plan it this way, but Sunday turned into what I'm calling my Manly Power Tool Day. I drilled. I sawed. I hammered. I got so much done I felt like I should be in a commercial for pick-up trucks. One of those ones where the Toyota Tundra uses its massive engine and rigid frame to haul the remains of the Titanic to the surface, maybe. Or where a Ford F-150, thanks to the power of its oversized brakes and big honkin' leaf spring single-handedly brings peace to the Middle East.
And, OK. Maybe installing mini-blinds in my office isn't the most masculine of activities. And maybe there are tougher-sounding things to do than install what the signage at Home Depot described as a "closet system" in my bedroom. But the important thing to remember here is that there was a drill involved. And a jig saw. And I still have every single one of my fingers and most of my toes.
There was almost no bleeding involved, though, so I'm declaring the day a resounding success.
While we're on the subject, I have to admit I'm new to the concept of the closet system. I apparently wasn't savvy enough about the world of fashion to realize keeping clothes off the floor required a system. Running a solid NFL defense requires a system. Beating the odds at the blackjack table requires a system. Hanging your clothes in the closet requires a stick. But then, you can't charge ridiculous prices for a closet stick.
Granted, the specific stick that was in my closet when I moved into my house last month was less than adequate for the job, having fallen to the floor as soon as I hung my clothes on it. Still, I think elevating metal rods and wire shelves to system status is just asking for trouble. Next thing you know the appliances will unionize.
It's hard to complain too much, though. As of Monday night my windows were still covered and my clothes were still hanging high and proud.
Thanks, furniture gods!


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