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David Crawford Status Update: I think I took the wrong pill this morning! Ha ha! Stumbling around in the dark, I took one of my wife’s estrogen pills instead of my acid reflux one. They look similar. Hmmm. What harm can it do? Whatever.

Update: New tattoo! It’s a beauty – on my back just above my belt line! Girls call it a Tramp Stamp – LOL! – I don’t know what us guys call it. Sort of a spur of the moment, whimsical thing. Skin a little tender but no biggy!

Update: Another one! Tattoo parlor was having a two for one special so I thought what the heck! This one is a nice rose on my chest. Looks great! I may have to change outfits to show it off a little when we go out tonight.

Update: Well someone is a little upset because I’m still getting ready when it is time to leave for our night out. Chill! We hardly ever go out anymore and I want to look good! I really could use some new clothes…

Update: So we get to the restaurant to meet friends and Charlie is wearing the same jeans as me! Can you believe that? I swear he did it on purpose. I asked Brent to go to the washroom with me so we could talk about it and he just looked at me funny and told me to go by myself. How rude! If he thinks I’m going to talk with him when I get back to the table he’s got another thing coming.

Update: Well if Fred thinks I’m going to help him pour concrete tomorrow he’s crazy! He made fun of my new body art so I told him what Bill had said about the outfit he was wearing the other day. Oooh was he mad! He’s just jealous of my new shirt, which brings out the highlights in my new buzz cut.

Update: So someone got a little snippy last night on our way home from dinner. All I did was offer some helpful criticism about her driving, and I also thought she could have been a little more supportive of me when Tom made that snide remark about men with tattoos. I may have had a few too many crantini’s but so what! She could have put her beer down and supported me! I’m so upset!

Update: Hey does anyone want to go shopping with me tomorrow? I need some accessories to go with my new table saw. I thought we could head over to Sears and check out the routers first, then go to Home Depot for some drill bits and nails. We can just be guys and hang out. Let me know!

Update: Me and the boys are going to go check out the new bistro downtown tomorrow! I heard they have some great appetizers so we’re going to meet there for a nosh and a giggle. Anybody else wanna join us?

Update: Woke up with a screaming headache today. I’m boiling hot too – even though it's cold out. Weird. Something is wrong with my shaver too – it barely cut this morning – not that there was much stubble, which is also weird. I must have had too many beers last night or something. Feel dreadful. Skin on my back is itchy beyond belief. More later when I wake up.

Update: Strange – note from wife - says she’s left me! WHAT?! Something about me keeping secrets from her all this time. She says I should see a good psychiatrist about my female tendencies. Huh?! And who put this tattoo on my chest anyway? A ROSE?? You’ve gotta be kidding me! Man I must have had WAY too many beers last night. I don’t remember any of this.

Update: I talked to the wife and she’s cool. I explained how I didn’t remember much from yesterday at all and that I still love her and to come home! She said yes! I’m still trying to figure out what happened, as I strut around the house in these fabulous new work boots! Gotta run to the jobsite. Bye!

Rookie Requests

(Editors note: This column is printed using a half-inch offset wrench for column alignment).

It’s not easy being a rookie on a job site. Especially one that is as disorganized as this one.

In just three hours I had been asked for all sorts of things, none of which could be found let alone used by the people who needed them.

I first went hunting for a 6x9 inch hole saw. No luck – looked everywhere. There were no muffler bearings in the tool shed either. Same with the diesel spark plugs. I hunted for the soft-nose chisel, pre-fabricated post holes, and the spark bucket for the welders. Nada.

The truck needed blinker fluid according to the mechanic, and I hadn’t even gotten around to the piston return spring.

I was starting to get frustrated. The boss was going to kill me, I thought.

Someone must have misplaced the wire stretcher and lamp cutter. The mechanic needed a camshaft rotational dampener, and I never did find the reciprocating dingle arm for the framulator.

I used to think I was pretty handy with tools but this was a whole new world to me. It went on and on.

Striped paint, a carton of hinge bind, the light bulb repair kit, the sky hook, bubble level oil, a brass magnet, lightning bolts. This was a busy place and the guys were starting to lose patience with me. The boss was starting to get mad too – telling me to find these items or they would take all this wasted time off my first cheque. Yikes!

He told me to head up to the roof and look around for tomorrow’s newspaper and the four foot yardstick.

Later, I had to go to the airport for a bucket of prop wash and a box of grid squares. That was interesting because I was halfway there when the boss called again, cancelled that run, and sent me off to buy an air filter bypass kit. No one had any of those either, I discovered.

This was not good. When you start a new job you’ve got to do what the boss says if you’re going to get anywhere. You’ve got to be sharp and work hard. I was keen and I was trying – but that’s about all you could say.

Back at the shop I was putting fresh air in the tires (important in winter, according to the mechanic) when my radio crackled and the foreman told me to forget about the long weight and double sided transparencies and go pick up a box of mahogany welding rods and some stanchion remover. If they “had some phallopian tubes and frequency grease then put that on the purchase order as well,” he said. My notebook was getting full.

Off I went. In what was turning out to be a wildly unsuccessful day, I couldn’t find any of this stuff. I was getting frustrated, although the people I dealt with at the suppliers seemed friendly enough. They were always smiling – which was nice.

Then inspiration struck and I stepped on the gas. Back at the site I marched into the bosses’ office and started dropping tools on his desk.

“Left handed screwdriver, some flight line from the airport, your Kenuter valve to drive a Johnson rod, glass hammer, box of enthusiasm and elbow grease, keys to the basement of this one storey building, and the snow tires for the wheel barrows! Does that about cover it?” I said, righteously.

He laughed. “Good job Crawford. You’ve done well. Come back tomorrow with a heavy duty clutch belt and you can get started in the office, once you blow out the telephone lines...”

They never let up in this business...