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That does it. I am calling a handyman. The office ceiling fan is loose and I daren’t turn it on as it starts to swing back and forth as if an invisible entity is hanging from it (possible) or its screws are coming out (more likely). While I am a wiz at loose screws in humans, I have no experience with such in ceiling fans. Last weekend I got out the ladder and held an inspection, screwdriver at the ready, and I can report I know no more about ceiling fans than I did before I went up to look at the blasted thing. When something goes bust at La Casa de Spo, the usual approach is to learn to live without it. Not so the ceiling fan It is getting too hot to work in the office without it, so this will not do. The Rubicon has been crossed; I am looking for Archibald Tuttle or somebody like him.

Father was not a handyman; I did not grow up with the sense real men fix it themselves. Nevertheless, it got into  head I should be able to do fix myself.  I think most men feel this way viz. they should be self-sufficient, an audodictat in all that they do.  Even the womenfolk buy into this. “What do you mean you don’t know how to change a tire/fix a broken what-not? I thought all you men knew how to do that!”  A man who knows how to ‘do it himself’ is admired for his abilities.

I am certain if I spent time learning about fans and electricity I might be able to fix the fan and feel good about my achievement.  However, there is the risk I will make a mess of things and the fan descends like the chandelier at the end of Act I of “The phantom of the opera” and someone will have to come to address the damage, no doubt rolling his eyes up at the idiocy of my amateurism.  

At my age, time is more important than money or vanity. If it costs 100 dollars for someone to do it right so be it. This sounds a genuine bargain compared to the hours I would spend learning and doing it myself.

So – today I am calling a Mr. Wilson, whose name I got from the neighborhood watch app. Someone routinely follows this app. From what he reports, the contents sound more toxic than Twitter, if that’s possible. Among the rants about kids on lawns and reports of suspicious people of color, some neighborhood dame was looking for a handyman good with tools for her needs, and another recommended this fellow, followed by another who writes she found him satisfactory too.*  When he shows, I don’t have to defend myself with reasons why I am not doing it myself. I will let him practice his craft there are other tasks. I have heaps.

Spo-fan: are you handy? When do you call in the professionals?

*As I wrote this, I paused to wonder if there were any scurrilous undertones to this handy man and his rave reviews. I want my fan fixed not oh well never mind.

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