Not Being Able to Figure Things Out

The past two weeks, the local rock radio station has played an ad. In it, Home Depot runs an audio that plays to the mechanical (presumably inherent) talents of fathers.

They run on about giving dad power tools for Father’s Day. Setting him free to fix the toilet. Letting him explore electrical outlets with abandon.

My wife has been in the car several times when the ad comes on. We turn and smile at each other. “That’s you,” I go. She laughs and nods. She’s the technical master of our household.

It’s amusing that a hardware store chooses to play to this stereotype, assuming 1) men are mostly/all mechanically inclined and 2) men will desire power tools and “want” to fix things around the house.

While this has some truth to it, it doesn’t tell the full story and instead pigeonholes people. As a young boy, our dad frequently had us help him with his home projects. I have two brothers, and one picked up that gene, and the other has it to a certain extent – he chooses to dig into more complex chores, I think, to save money and perhaps figure out how something works.

I don’t have the fix-it gene, and my mind doesn’t function in a mechanical way. And the desire is not there to handle those deficiencies.

Thankfully, I have a wife who is very mechanically inclined, and LOVES to dig in and problem-solve. She’s talented and I’m thankful, and we often shake our heads in amusement when faced with stereotypical messages about who is the “man of the house” when it comes to repairs and fixing things.

Recently, my car radio stopped functioning. As usual, Mr. Non-Mechanical could not figure out what was wrong. Determined to find the simple solution (there had to be one, didn’t there?), I chose not to seek my wife’s help for a couple of days.

Intelligently, I thought, I turned the car off and on several times with no result. This works with the computer, doesn’t it? So why not the car?

I played with the tap screen. This is dangerous for me. My stubby fingers, which often operate on another planet, can accidentally hit just about anything in the wrong way, causing technological damage. In fact, in this case, I was confident they were the cause of the problem, though I couldn’t figure out when it happened.

When the on-off solution provided nothing, I began playing with the touch screen, examining buttons, lightly tapping indicators that could in any way, shape or form appear to mean “mute” or “unmute.” No dice after spending many minutes on this, more than I’d care to relate.

I considered using the Operators Manual, but really, why bow to the printed word and the sure-fire answer. Aren’t we supposed to be Handy Men and figure it out on our own?

So, my car went silent for a day, then two. Then my wife joined me for our morning drive to walk the dog. “How come your radio isn’t on?”

“I, uh, um…… Well, I must have tapped something to turn it off and haven’t been able to figure out how to get it back on.”

She leaned over, touched the screen once, MAYBE twice, and bam, Led Zeppelin came back on with “Stairway to Heaven.” I was in heaven because I have such a talented wife. She’s the Handy Woman they should target next year, perhaps on Mother’s Day.