Me and moving parts; when things mechanical fail to function, a checkbook may be the only tool in the box
Saturday Evening Post

When things mechanical fail to function, a checkbook may be the only tool in the box.

Remember the deep-sea diver on the ocean floor who received the urgent message, "Come up; the ship is sinking"? He would best understand my situation when it comes to dealing with contrivances having moving parts.

Our '72 Olds Cutlass is about the only thing that hasn't dropped dead the day after its warranty expired. On its tenth anniversary, with its valves still valving (or whatever it is they do), we ran into a deer on our way to Spencer to celebrate. That's the way things have been going. And I won't even mention the relics my dear wife drags home ftom auction sales, the moving parts of which haven't moved for at least five years (but will be "as good as new with a little tender loving care," she argues).

My tender loving care stops, unfortunately, where our can of 3-in-I oil begins. And the feeling is mutual. Except maybe for the kitchen clock-radio. The clock was kind enough to begin ticking again after my two straight hours of ministrations.

"But now it's running backwards!" my dear wife was rude enough to point out.