Make new friends

Sometimes it’s good to branch out. Maybe your friends don’t meet up to your expectations. Maybe they can’t help you through the task at hand. Whatever the reason, make new ones. I did.

I found crown molding edges impossible to miter and tack perfectly at the corner joints. (That brings up nail guns. My dad taught me how to use one when we attached chair rails to the dining room walls. I don’t think he wasn’t expecting me to pull the trigger on a practice shot sans nails. He jumped in the air and held his chest. I was impressed that a 250-pound guy could get off the ground so high.) Days later, an amateur construction worker inspected my crown molding job in the kitchen. “Corners are very difficult,” he admitted. “Whoever (that would be me) installed them up did a really good job.” Okay, I cut and Topper made the corners match.

I met my new friend during the sad story of my back door. The rains came, and like in the Bible, my back door started washing away. The door jamb is not a standard width. To save “special order” costs, I scraped the wood rot out with a wood chisel (aren’t you impressed with all these technical terms I’m using) and then expected Topper to bail me out. But soon I was seeing daylight with the door shut. Topper was not the friend I needed. I had visions of someone sturdy, who could fend off storms.

That’s when Home Depot introduced me to one tough putty buddy who fixed my door with the force of a true British stud. Bondo … James Bondo. The instructions on the side of the can had read, shake not stir.

P.S. Just in case you’re wondering about my mental health after smelling fumes of Bondo all day… I am aware that I took this over the top. But you’ve got to admit the picture of the Tape Family was clever.  (It’s such a rare moment when you can get any family to hold hands.)