Bustednuckles

That’s what my wife said about me earlier today.

It’s been a busy one at that.

First thing I had to drive over to the Farher In Laws 35 miles away because he had told one of her sisters that it felt like one of the front wheels on his car was “wobbling”.

He isn’t even supposed to be driving for starters.

Then of course the Sister In Law is to scared to try and test drive it around the block so I can either confirm that there is an issue or at least get some kind of idea of what I’m supposed to be looking for.

Did he hit a curb?

Can you grab the wheel and see if it wiggles?

Oh fuck no.

So I drive all the way over there, take a look, take it and him out and thrash on it out on the highway because he never gets over 25 miles an hour or more than a mile and a half away from the house.

Not a damn thing wrong with it as far as I can tell.

Tell him such and to quit worrying about it.

Jumped the Sister In Law’s ass for being so lazy and came home.

Then I started in on the wheel bearings on that little trailer.

Jumpin’ Jehosephat it was way worse than I thought.

Real bad.

As bad as it was, it could have actually been worse!

At least the inner bearing race wasn’t heat welded onto the spindle.

Not that it came off easy mind you.

But I did get it off finally.

Then over an hour up at the parts store .

No numbers left on anything except one bearing race and a freakin’ Newbie behind the counter.

A more experience guy that I usually deal with finally had mercy on us and found sets of bearings and races instead of trying to find them individually.

Of course the spindle was messed up and I had to clean that up before I could put it back together.

I got almost all of that really bad side back together and discovered that the grease cap on the end didn’t fit this side anymore.

Apparently dragging the thing God only knows how many miles without an inner bearing had caused the hub to tilt on the spindle and had basically turned the inside of the hub like a lathe against the nut and opened the hole up.

I was screwing around with that when The Wifely Unit came out to see what was going on.

I stopped and explained what I was trying to do when the thought occurred to me that there just aren’t that many people around anymore who have my particular skills.

You know how you are doing something that you have done so many times before that you don’t even really think about how you are actually doing it?

Like that.

If you really stop and think about it, there aren’t that many of us left and it’s getting fewer and fewer by the day it seems.

She must have picked up on what I was thinking because she looked at me and told me that I was part of a dying breed.

She went on to say that she was really glad that she was married to a guy who could do things.

Fix broken stuff, make things work that nobody else she knows would have the slightest idea of where to even start.

I told her it felt good to be appreciated once in a while but that what she said was true.

Just to drive the point home I guess, The Universe yanked my chain a half hour later.

Just for fun.

My Brother called me and said his daughter, my Niece, was stranded at the local Sonic Burger joint with the new to her 2018 Subaru Something Or Other that wouldn’t start.

Even better, HER daughter was with her.

Unfortunately My Wifely Unit had run to the store so I called the Niece and told her I would get there as soon as she came home.

My Brother is a Finish Carpenter, with a life long history of not knowing shit about cars.

So he called me, of course.

I snagged up some tools and shit and ran up there.

Turn the key, clicky clicky.

Dead Battry.

Got some stuff out, checked the voltage, 11.8 volts. No Bueno.Hoked up the cables and let it sit for a while and yakked with the Niece.

Finally told her to crank it while I reached in and revved the old Small Block.

Vroom.

Unhooked the cables, checked the voltage again, 14.3.

You needs a new Battry dear.

Told her to expect to pay at least $150, asked if she could afford that and was told yes.

OK then.

Said hello to the Grand Niece who had her face buried in a phone the whole time and sent them on their way.

She stopped at an Auto Zone on the way home and they swapped it out for her.

Come to find out, her Fiance had been sitting at home on his ass this whole time, ten minutes closer to her than I was.

Because he don’t know shit about cars either.

There is absolutely no need for me to tell anyone that this country is fucked, just on the premise that nobody knows how to do Jack Shit anymore.

Oh sure, there will always be someone in the comments who will tell us that they have Kick Ass kids who know all kinds of stuff and how to take care of them.

What’s that, One, Two, Three maybe?

Out of HOW MANY?

It isn’t just “The Kids” either. I couldn’t even begin to count how many full grown adults who don’t know Fuck All about what used to be Basic Knowledge back in the day and that goes for Women and the Art of taking care of shit that women used to do every freaking day.

Baking, sewing, shopping, food preservation, none of it.

Yep ,

The Last of a Dying Breed.