Revenge of all Things Mechanical
By Bobby Wallinger
For as long as I can recall I have always suffered from a syndrome that I choose to state as “aversion to all things mechanical”.
Even as a very little child I loathed a gift given to me by a favorite aunt because it was a “mechanical bank”. While other children in the neighborhood loved the ugly little man, I found him to be nothing short of terrifying as when I put a penny in a slot in his hand, his mechanical arm would shoot upward as the penny dropped into a hole in his head causing him to tip his hat. Where had the penny gone, I pondered and how could I retrieve it should the opportunity arise that I might wish to purchase a piece of penny candy at our neighborhood “mom and pop” grocery store.
I could shake the ugly little tin man, but once in the hole I
could not retrieve the lost coin. Now granted my older brother
tortured me by declaring, “It’s gone. He swallowed it.”
Sad, but ever determined, I would shake the little man with all my
might eventually to his demise as I inadvertently banged the edge of
his hat on a nearby counter creating a sharp edge resulting in my
slicing my finger and leaving me with a scar on my digit which
remains to this day. AUGH!
And thus began my war with anything mechanical.
I like things that are simple and forthright. And have never
dallied with anything mechanical or, heaven forbid, electrical, ever
since. My husband and friends are all painfully aware of just how
inept I am in fixing anything that has more than one moving part and
I have always felt reading directions was for sissies. I prefer the
guaranteed method of repair which is to call someone “mechanically
inclined” to provide assistance.
But lately, I have a feeling the all things mechanical are not only
annoying but actually have become my nemesis. I am almost convinced,
“they are out to get me”…now how scary is that!
But how would you feel if within a ten day period, five light
bulbs suddenly went out, my garbage disposal began making only a
mild hum (versus an aggressive grinding sound), my left windshield
wiper ceased to “wipe” (it moves back in forth but no longer rubs
the windshield in the process), and last but most frustrating, my
dishwasher is retaining water in much the same way my body does when
I O.D. on either potato chips or sushi.
This has to be more than a coincidence. I am beginning to wonder if I am indeed a mechanoreceptor and my very presence is the cause of things going asunder. But no, that’s silly. Everyone knows mechanoreceptor refers to a body organ sensitive to mechanical stimuli, e.g., intestines…
Whoops, hmmm, maybe I am part of the problem. After all perhaps it is a result of my personal defense mechanism theorizing that the workings of the universe can be explained by physics and chemistry and my chemistry is Yucky!
Or perhaps my original thought regarding all things mechanical is
correct and that little goblins take your coins and foil up all your
appliances at the same time just to make you not feel so bad about
paying your income tax. And thinking about income tax…makes me think
about the ugly little man that swallowed my pennies and resulted in
making me bleed.
How’s that for a non-sequitur!