I come from 3 generations of plumbers. My great-grandfather, grandfather and father were all plumbers. If I had half a brain, I would have been one too, and probably be comfortably retired by now. But I don't, so I anchor the news on television.

I have no tool I.Q. Zero. Tools and I rarely get along. And I get absolutely no respect when I threaten to pick up a tool. My family openly mocks me.

When I say I'm going to fix something around the house, the Dearly Beloved first asks whether that's a wise idea, then makes sure she's nowhere to be seen after I say, "Why yes, dear, it is."

This week, I decided to replace the ignition fixture in our outdoor gas grill.
She left. Got in her car and drove away.

The guy at the hardware store had told me, "Gerry, even you can do this." (He knows me and my limitations.)
And he was right. I only had to call him once during the "operation."

So I called the Dearly Beloved.

"I just want you to know I fixed the grill."
"You did?"
"Yes I did."
"And it works???????" (That was very hurtful.)
"Yes it does."

Satisfaction? You bet. The pride of a true craftsman.

Relief? OH GOD, YES!!!!! I've been deflecting her bid for a new grill for months now, and if I screwed this up...well...

It's not a compliment to refer to someone as a "tool." But when it comes to tools, I am one.

And after this triumph? Hey, there's this sweet dual bevel miter saw with laser tracking I've had my eye on.

Keep an ambulance on standby.