Imperfect Improvements
by Alex McRae

Spring has sprung, and along every path and parcel of the fruited plain Americans call home, things are stirring.

New flowers peek from beneath the earth's sandy slipcover. Trees are trying on their new green coats, and every bird and beast is preparing a checklist of warm weather activities.

Unfortunately, one of those beasts is man. And nothing brings out the silly side of humanity like trying to make up for a winter's worth of slothfulness by starting the annual round of home improvements.

They don't all go as planned. Let's face it, if you're a home owner, you've got a horror story. My past misfortunes have been relatively modest, mostly because they matched my ambitions. I've never had the cash or the courage to add a wing to the house or improve the landscaping beyond regular mowing.

But sometimes, even the small jobs can break your heart, not to mention your back, wrist, shinbone, spirit, etc. It's usually a matter of under-estimating the unexpected.

One spring I decided to turn a plain old sidewalk into a pebbled pathway of swanky small stones. It was a relatively short walkway. On paper, it looked like a relatively simple matter.

At the time I was foolish enough to think one could turn a concrete sidewalk to rubble by bashing it to bits with a sledge hammer. Since I didn't hammer sledges on a regular basis, I didn't have the hammer. But the tool rental store did - a 20 pound job that felt sturdy enough to bring down the walls of Jericho all by itself.

I dragged the hammer from the car, lifted the bludgeon and swung it in a mighty arc.

I don't know if there's a medical term for what followed. The hammer fell, the concrete merely winced. So did I, in agonizing pain. The impact numbed my hands and sent such a shiver up my spine I haven't been able to do yoga since, much less the twist.

After 20 or so minutes, the feeling returned to my hands. I decided I had struck an unnaturally hard stretch of concrete and struck again. After an hour or so, I was back at the tool rental store. The owner asked how it was going. I asked if he had a jackhammer.

Unfortunately, he did.

A jackhammer is basically a motorized chisel. It will turn even the hardest concrete to dust. That is, if you have the strength to control the machine while it shudders, shivers and wanders about as if possessed by demons.

A good jackhammer man could have done my job in 30 minutes. It took me all day.

After that, I swore if I ever passed anyone using a jackhammer I would stop whatever I was doing and present them with a cold beer and a gift certificatefor the chiropractor of their choice.

Once the sidewalk was done, so was I - for good. Since then I've confinedmy do-it-yourself list to less taxing chores like painting the mailbox or raking a leaf. Until now. The new house has a great back deck. After we moved in, I was convinced the only way to make it better would be to put a roof over it and wrap it with screen. I already owned a home improvement book that showed just how to do it.

Luckily, the initial urge passed. But the other day the sun was out, the birds were singing, and the old longing returned. While I was pondering porches I was also channel surfing.I came across a TV show about massive infrastructure projects. One shot showed a sweaty guy wrestling a jackhammer.

I watched a few minutes, ate a sandwich and went to bed. Tomorrow I'll burn the home improvement book, maybe in that swell new outdoor fireplace I've been thinking about.

(Send your e-mail comments to: alex@newnan.com)