Sometimes My Stupidity Amazes Me

As you may or may not know, I have a Craftsman lawnmower that is every bit as old as I am. I paid $120ish dollars for it a few years ago and after a couple cans of orange spray paint, it became a horrible version of the General Lee from The Dukes of Hazard. I did this mainly as joke and less an attempt to produce something beautiful. The thought of my neighbors having to stare at this abomination as I putt around the yard makes me smile widely. Despite being in good condition for it's age, 'The General' as I frequently call it much to the dismay of my wife was plagued by several nagging problems.

The ignition switch is tricky, I have to turn it a certain way and hold my mouth ever so slightly agape before the engine will crank. I have to manually hold the choke on the carburetor while doing a rain dance, plus everything needed to make the engine crank. The chain guard being old and bent has caused the chain to break numerous times. One summer I probably replaced 4 or more master links before I found the exact problem, the guys at the hardware store were not surprised at all to see me every week. The nut holding the blade to the spindle on the deck is kinda stripped and if I hit anything other than grass, it's gotta be flipped on it's side and beat mercilessly until it's once again snug enough to mow. The belts slip, the tires are all full of fix-a-flat and it's as loud as it is ugly. BUT at the end of the day, the yard is mowed and it's still easier than push mowing. I left out one little detail... the battery.

The battery has never been good. However, after a few jump starts at the beginning of the mowing season it will kinda start charging and will work for the rest of the year until the mowing season ends. Thus, I have never really contemplated getting a new battery. I have a good charger, but the method of choice is usually to hook it up to the red top optima battery in my old Camaro (I know, how trashy can one guy be right?) But yesterday I learned a very important lesson, a lesson that at least 3 men I have learned my 'man lessons' from had warned me about. Always take my rings off while working on ANYTHING.

My father and older brother were mechanics by trade for most of my childhood. I grew up in a garage and I still love all things motorized. My friend Corey, who for all intents and purposes, is my other older brother and I have spent countless hours working on things over the years. I have always watched him take his rings off before working on anything. I was never one for wearing rings in the past, so this was never an issue. I hated any hand accessories, I never wore rings, bracelets or even watches. But now having a wedding ring and several others, I rarely bother to take them off.

A day or so before my father passed away, he gave me his rings. One of which had a curious little notch in it that was the result of him accidentally arcing electricity through it and severely burning his finger. After that, he made sure his rings were nowhere near anything he was working on. Needless to say, he had warned me of this very event. My brother had warned me to avoid wearing rings at least 6 billion times. I beheld Corey first hand for years making sure his rings were in pocket. So yesterday was my second time using the riding mower this year, I had been push mowing due to the blade being loose as indicated before. As I ever so carefully turn the key, my fears are confirmed. The battery is dead. My rings were on my fingers. How dumb can I be right?

Like always I rolled it to the Camaro and began to hook up the jumper cables. The space the battery sits in is kinda tight due to the location and it's a bit like playing Operation. I suck at Operation. As I hooked the last positive to the post of the battery, my ring made contact with the side of the car and the clamp. A shower of sparks began to fly and as I tried to pull my hand out it got wedged there for way longer than it should have. After what seemed like 15 minutes I finally freed my finger. The ring was still glowing a bit and there was an ever so tiny flame underneath that I promptly blew out. This particular ring doesn't come off easy under normal circumstances so I knew I was in trouble when I tugged gently and it was still firmly in place smoldering. I could do nothing but helplessly stare it as I made my way to the water hose. I doused it with water and gave another slight tug. This time the ring broke lose and came off...with more skin than I would have believed possible. I couldn't help but laugh.

There I stood, fully deserving of what I had just experienced. I knew better, I felt so stupid. But I also felt some sense of closeness to my father. Despite any pain I was in, I found myself smiling. My ring has the same little curious notch in it now. I realized that no matter how many times you are told not to do something, it sometimes takes first hand experience to truly learn NOT to do it. I will NEVER wear my rings again while working on anything.

Lastly, I leave you with the least gross picture I have. Enjoy. :D