twiddling<\/a>, but had no luck.<\/p>\nI resolved that, next time I needed to call a plumber over something important, I would add this to the list of things to look at.<\/p>\n
I haven’t needed to call a plumber for a long while, so recently, I got fired up again, and this time I added Google to my toolbox. I read up on cisterns and their problems. I understood<\/em> their function. I became at one with the treatments for their ailments. Turns out that, despite having different symptoms (hiss sound versus drip sound), both of the toilets had the same problem – a leaky gasket in the ballcock valve.<\/p>\nFriday morning, I disassembled a cistern, removed the faulty part, and popped into a hardware store on the way to work and picked up a couple of the rubber washers.<\/p>\n
To my surprise, I found myself slightly excited all day at the prospect of getting home and solving this problem – this trivial, trivial problem that didn’t interfere with my quality of life – once and for all. How sad have I become when I get excited about spending a Friday night at home, fixing toilets?<\/p>\n
When I got home I went straight to work, and knocked them both over in about 30 minutes. They work perfectly. Now that I know what level the water is supposed<\/em> to reach, it fills me with joy that it actually sits at that level. I pondered how much I am going to save in excess water charges – my conclusion is that the $2.25 washers I bought should pay for themselves within a few short years!<\/p>\nAgain, I was surprised at my emotions – I was inordinately proud of myself for fixing a toilet without having to call in a professional. Odd… Then it dawned on me. Oh my! I was feeling masculine<\/em>! I’d become the man my grandfather wanted me to be. I thought I was sad before, but, in 2006, to think that fixing a toilet yourself<\/em> makes you more of a man? Shoot me now.<\/p>\nStill, it made me think of plumbers in a new light. If everyone had this same misplaced sense of masculinity, plumbers must get all the women!<\/p>\n
[To be read in the deep, slow voice of Barry White]<\/strong> Hey, ladies. How are we doing tonight? … Who me? … I spent the day fixing toilets. … Naw, I didn’t wait for no plumber… Yeah, that’s right. By myself. I fixed one, and then five minutes later, I got up again and fixed another. … No, I wasn’t tired. I could have fixed toilets all day and then all night. I reckon I could fix two or three, simultaneous. [Oops! Start again, and this time read it in the voice of Isaac Hayes]<\/strong> … Yeah, I guess it is pretty sexy. When I get my hands on a ballcock system, my hands just weave my magic… Ladies? … Where are you going? Ladies? No, wait! I’m straight! That’s just what it’s called! Wait! … Oh, damn.<\/div>\nErr.. Sorry, where was I?<\/p>\n
So I said to myself, “Well, if you enjoy plumbing so much, Loverboy, why do some of the taps still leak a little, even though you replaced the washers?” The taps didn’t need new washers – they needed re-seating, and I didn’t have a re-seating tool. It was on my list to get the plumber to do whenever he or she was called out. <\/p>\n
“he or she”? Pshaw! Plumbing is a evidently a masculine job! How could a woman do it?<\/div>\n
Given that I am clearly too manly to need a plumber any time soon, I went out the next day and bought myself a tap re-seating tool. I re-seated three taps. The way those taps dripped, I reckon that tool will pay for itself in money saved in only 30 years. I am a plumbing god!<\/p>\n
However, while restoring the mains water to my home after fixing the taps, I noticed that the meter was ticking over even when all the taps were shut. I have a leak! Hunting around, I found a copper pipe on an outer wall, leaking a steady trickle onto the roots of that vine tree which has been growing so well. <\/p>\n
That is where my water bill money is leaking! Not the toilets. Not the taps. This copper pipe that I can’t fix<\/strong>.<\/p>\nI have to call a plumber on Monday. I feel so impotent! Gee, I hope the plumber’s not a woman! My ego couldn’t handle it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
In which Julian re-discovers his masculinity – it was in the wrong place all along<\/p>\n
… and then he loses it again<\/p>\n
… and proves he can turn the most mundane act into a story.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_s2mail":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[23,35,41],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-314","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-based-on-a-true-story","category-heroic-failures","category-story-telling"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.somethinkodd.com\/oddthinking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/314","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.somethinkodd.com\/oddthinking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.somethinkodd.com\/oddthinking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.somethinkodd.com\/oddthinking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.somethinkodd.com\/oddthinking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=314"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.somethinkodd.com\/oddthinking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/314\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.somethinkodd.com\/oddthinking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=314"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.somethinkodd.com\/oddthinking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=314"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.somethinkodd.com\/oddthinking\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=314"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}