I fix to make money, sometimes by saving money, and to build and enhance lifestyle. I can give my family a better life than would otherwise be possible by building things and repairing them. This applies mostly to vehicles and houses, but also to smaller things like toys and garden equipment.
How much, in dollar terms? We'll be strictly utilitarian, even though I don't agree with the morality of that analysis. More than enough, in most cases, to justify the time spent on an hourly basis. Somethings, like fixing houses, pay better than others, like fixing clothes or consumer electronics. I tried to fix a GE laundry machine once, only to discover the replacement parts cost more, collectively, than a new GE laundry machine. But I live in a house on three acres that cost only $60,000 before repair and is worth at least twice that, and drive a reliable car, a Toyota Camry that cost only $3,500 secondhand, before repair, has give 120,000 miles, and is still worth at least $3,500. Both house and car have given us many years of service. I have another car, a 1975 VW bus, that was given to me and that I subsequently have gotten at least 400,000 miles out of, for perhaps another six thousand or so dollars in parts. At the IRS tax rate (2021) of 58¢/mile, that's $226,000 in value.
I fix to build friendships and community. I am not by nature particularly social. I no longer dance, hardly ever go on outdoor excursions with groups other than my family anymore, something I used to do an awful lot, and I dislike small talk. But people need help with stuff, so helping gets me out of the house.
I fix because I can. I was well trained in a tough school. Royal Air Force Number One Technical Training School Halton, Bucks, plus six years on squadrons, flight lines, in repair hangers, and engine bays from one end of the British Isles to the other. We were given a full parade inspection every morning and marched to our shop classes by drill instructors. I tell shouty and bullying people, "You can't scare me by yelling. I was yelled at by professionals." Being that kind of asbestos has probably made me thousands at contract negotiations and saved thousands in therapy fees. Then I worked in a rental repair yard, a mine, a lumber mill, a car dealership, and in construction yards, building sites, and home repair all over the US. I haven't yet met the system or assembly that I couldn't somehow take apart and troubleshoot. Even electronic gadgets can be fixed. You may not be able to fix a computer chip by yourself, but printed circuit boards go bad in other places and can be fixed by repairing solder, switching out components other than chips, or simply replaced in modular fashion. Just about everything can be fixed. If it can't be fixed, you can at least begin to understand why. That's better than not knowing at all.
I fix because you have to keep fixing. If you don't use it, you'll lose it. I didn't fix things as much during the twelve years I spent in full-time college, 1989-2000 (BA, MS, PhD). My skills atrophied. I didn't learn as much new stuff. I missed a decade of technological development, particularly in autos, and had to catch up later. These were the years that onboard diagnosis (OBD) technology came out -- OBD is your car's "check engine" and other code system for signifying faults -- so they were crucial years to miss and it took a long while to catch up.
I fix because fixing puts me in charge of my life. It reduces my dependence on others and on parts of our social system that I often do not agree with or support, particularly monopoly capital. Matthew Crawford, author of "Shop Class and Soulcraft," writes that nothing is more pathetic than a modern individual who is unable to even begin to fathom the technology he depends on. And there's nothing I despise more than a company who deliberately goes out of their way to prevent you fixing their product.
I fix because I like old stuff and old stuff is often nicer than new. Or the new version simply doesn't exist or do quite the same thing. My 1975 VW camper, for instance, which has been taking me places since 1993, has no modern analog that retains all the indispensable features of the old. There are no modern camper vans that have such a simple engine and such a clean uncluttered interior. My 1973 Kubota B6000E tractor is the smallest strongest tractor ever made for the US market and comes with a wide range of useful implements. I paid $6,000 for it and all the implements.
I fix because society depends on fixers. If nothing was ever repaired or made better, where would we be? Someone has to do it. Old buildings, old cars, old things in general shouldn't just be thrown away. Even throwing stuff away requires fixing. Someone must keep the demolition and scrapyard equipment running. And society will always need fixers. Your drippy tap has to be fixed by a local person. You can't outsource it to China or India. One of the reasons the allies won WW2 was because there were so many handy fixers in the allied armies, technicians who could keep Spitfires and B17s and Sherman tanks and Liberty ships running. During the Cold War, the Soviet leaders' fear of our technology -- and by extension the technicians (like me) who maintained that technology -- kept communism and its gulags contained. I can claim credit for a small role in preserving my own freedom and that of our daughter. That little nugget of self-respect is a priceless value. In Ukraine today, fixers are keeping the increasing brutal Russian hordes at bay by repairing aircraft, abandoned Russian tanks, drones, and donated weapons of all different kinds. More power to them.
Finally, I fix for peace of mind and related spiritual feeling. This is the closest thing to religious practice that I have.
Robert Pirsig, author of "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" (and former Mainer), writes, "Peace of mind isn’t at all superficial to technical work. It’s the whole thing. That which produces it is good work and that which destroys it is bad work."
If I'm down, which is rare to begin with, I often feel better just looking at stuff that was broken or not working that I have fixed and keep around. I feel like I can handle this life. I feel like life is good and good to me and mine. If I'm depressed, a good thing to do is to tidy my workshop and put tools away. I always feel good about myself with a clean shop.
I know lots of people, particularly younger people, that don't feel this way. Some have killed themselves. Others manage with prescription drugs that are supposed to make them feel better but often don't seem to help much. It isn't surprising that they have learned this sadness and helplessness when society tells them that they shouldn't even try to figure out what is wrong with the stuff they own and use, never mind try to figure out what is wrong with society or themselves. Or what society is doing to themselves. I feel bad for them. I often try to help. But it's very hard, it seems, to repair this problem once it is well-established. A hard fix.
It's better to fix, and keep fixing, from the get-go, and just keep fixing as you go along. Staying in command of your stuff helps keep you in command of your life, and keeps you from being overwhelmed by the dysfunction around you. You can create a personal island of stuff and ideas that work. You can extend this island by helping your friends and neighbors.
Sooner or later enough of us will do this and it will spread and the whole system will start working better.
No comments:
Post a Comment