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Hammer Time

February 19, 2012

The 28 ounce framing hammer gleamed as it hung seductively on its display hook. Twenty-eight ounces of Estwing-ness. I felt a Tim Taylor chortle bubble up from my chest as I hefted the tool in my hand, standing there in the aisle of the tool section. I visualized myself driving a nail like I remembered watching my dad do it, in one powerful blow. For a minute I wasn’t in the home improvement store any more, but on a hot, dry, and dusty work site with Dad. During one of those character building summers as a young teenager. “Swing a 28 ounce hammer for a day, that’ll make a man out of ya,” I remembered Dad saying.

It would be just the thing to turn my day around. A brand new hammer to “alter my environment at will and make an incredible din all the while!” as Calvin would say. I needed something to turn my day around. It wasn’t going so well. It started that morning when some brand new, expensive equipment had broken and totally threw a monkey wrench into my plans for the day. I tried to redeem the day by accomplishing other tasks, only to have them thwarted, as well. I felt like the cowboy, who I imagine was a decent guy who just wanted to ride a dang horse that day, but it all went sideways and left him flying through thin air. Stupid horse. Who makes a piece of shop equipment with threads that strip out the first time you use it? Stupid hydraulic jack. I tried counting my blessings to cheer myself up. Because it can always get worse, right? Let’s see…I’ve got my health, my kids and a wife that seem to like me. I didn’t break anything that was wasn’t under warranty. I didn’t have any run-ins with the law. Hmmm. I guess I feel better.

The armful of items I was holding shifted, and I realized that I didn’t really need a 28 ounce Estwing. Ah well. It’s fun to think about anyway. And Lowes is a great store to go to, when you want to de-stress a little.


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