Life Skills and Lego

I am not an engineer or a mechanic, I have never claimed to have been an engineer or a mechanic, and I have never played either on TV. I did, however, spend an inordinate amount of time playing with Lego building blocks as a kid. More scientifically minded educators may be able to provide interesting analyses of what that sort of play does for the fine motor skills, hand-eye coordination, spatial awareness, creativity, and ability to speak foreign languages in children, and I'll leave that discussion to the experts. Having said that, I do believe that my childhood fixation with Lego did provide me with one essential skill and one odd character trait: I can do stuff with my hands and I don't like to read directions.

How on earth, you may ask, is this relevant to the life of a ski professional? What benefit can these Lego-borne characteristics provide to someone in the snowsports business? After a month of writer's block, how can this possibly be the subject that prompted me to write? It's simple, really. I don't have a lot of money, my car is a rapidly aging Subaru, and this afternoon I needed to fix it on my own with only the contents of my closets and my home-owner style toolbox. Now that was a fun challenge!

The short version of the situation with my vehicle is that the collar that connects the exhaust pipe to the muffler was completely rusted and falling apart. I found this out this morning when I started my car, put it in drive and when, after rolling a few feet, I heard the telltale clang and rumble of a big chunk of metal hitting the ground and dragging underneath me along the driveway. I got a ride to and from work from a friend – I wouldn't even think about passing up a full day of work this late in the season when they are so few and far between – and arrived back home this evening with plenty of Spring daylight hours left for me to jerry rig a quick fix so I can get my car to the shop in the morning.


The All-Purpose Wire Hanger



The Sistine Chapel of Fixes

After a little contemplation and strategy (insert analysis of the benefits of a liberal arts education here), I fixed my car with an old wire hanger and some needle-nosed pliers. That's it. The exhaust pipe is now fully connected to the muffler. I even checked my work by driving up and down the driveway! I'm not a skinny little guy so wedging myself under the car on a mud and gravel driveway was a bit of a project, and doing so in a way that allowed me to use my hands took it to a whole other level. Yes, I am very proud of myself. No, I didn't draw any blood (which would have improved my street cred). Yes, I got very dirty. No, it's not clear whether the fix will hold up for the entire mile-and-a-half drive to the auto shop tomorrow morning, much of which is over very badly pot-holed roads. Yes, I do have an extra piece of wire hanger just in case. Yes, I shamelessly took pictures of my handiwork to post on my blog, and I will brag to my parents about it.

My car isn't really in that rough a shape, but with another good winter season or two I should be able to get a new one. Or I'll just pay a professional to properly fix it for me before these sorts of things happen. I'll maintain a ready supply of wire hangers, duct tape, tongue depressors, and super glue around the house just in case.

P.S. I am very please to be able to report that on the afternoon following The Big Fix, I successfully drove my car without incident, sparks on the road, or clanging parts all the way from Ludlow, VT to Claremont, NH. The drive included my very severely pot-holed road here at home, smooth Vermont state roads roads, and several typically ice-heaved New Hampshire roads with rough pavement.