There’s an army surplus cabinet in my garage. The second drawer of the cabine is labelled “electrical,” and as you might guess, it contains tools and supplies for electrical work. There is different gauge wire, crimpers, pliers, those little screw on things, a multimeter, other stuff, and in the right hand side of the cabinet is also a roll of 1 1/2 polyvinyl chloride electrical conduit.
I go up to the garage to get this conduit. I need it because there is a dirty area at the base of the steps coming off our back porch. I have dug out this dirty area, framed it with wood, laid chicken wire, and mixed concrete which is waiting for me to pour it into the frame, thus creating a slab of concrete that my daughter can put her hand print in. Just as importantly it will stop dirt from being tracked into the house.
I need the conduit though because there is a wire running right through that area that powers a flood light. Oh I suppose I could just lay concrete over that wire, but if I ever need to replace the wire, or it breaks, or I need to move it, or do anything, it will be under 3-4 inches of concrete. So I need the conduit.
It’s no big deal if I concrete it in, except I really hate it when people do jobs half-assed. I hate it when I have to deal with some fool’s crappy work, and suffer lasting consequences and difficulties fixing mistakes that never should have been made. It’s bad enough when I’m fixing somebody else’s problem. It’s infinitely worse when it’s my own.
So this conduit is an act of consideration that I am doing for somebody in the distant future who only may benefit from my action. I can see that person as I head to the garage.
“Wow!” He’ll exclaim. “This is really a great slab of concrete, isn’t it? Thank God the guy that laid it had the presence of mind to place this wire conduit through it, otherwise we’d be in a hell of a mess right now. That must have been some guy.”
Or, maybe it will be me. Maybe I’ll be seventy years old, replacing this wire. I’ll be glad I laid conduit.
The real kicker though, and the reason I’m walking to the garage with a feeling of dread is that I just know that if I don’t put the conduit in, somehow the very act of me putting in the concrete slab will screw up that wire so bad that it will short out and need immediate replacement. That’s the way these things work.
Simple enough, huh? Why am I dreading this so much? I know exactly where the conduit is, don’t I?
I do.
It is in this army surplus cabinet in the garage in the drawer marked “electrical,” right where it should be. Right where I put it two or three years ago.
The problem is that since then I have moved. Somehow in that move, a cylinder on the side of the cabinet got pressed. That cylinder has a keyhole in it. As far as I know, the key to that lock is the key ring of some retired army colonel somewhere in Saskatchewa. I have certainly never had it.
I never thought I would be so stupid as to press that cylinder, and perhaps I wasn’t. I don’t know how it got pressed, locking the cabinet. But it did. I always meant to break the lock from the inside, but never got around to it.
Thus far I have avoided doing any projects that require any of the things that are in any of the drawers of that cabinet, but today I need that conduit. I need it now. I am under duress because I have a tub of concrete mixed and ready, and of course, it is “Quickcrete,” I need that conduit now. I figure I have 10-15 minutes tops.
I have already decided my plan of attack. I am going to drill the shit out of that cylinder with my Dewalt power drill. Should I use the big 3/8 inch bit, or just a little one? I opt for the big one, because if the little one doesn’t do the trick it’s difficult and dangerous to enlarge a drilled hole.
In about 20 seconds I have bit, drill, cord ready to go and I am drilling. A minute later and I have drilled a 3/8 inch hole clear through the center of the lock.
Unfortunately, whatever depressing that cylinder did, putting a 3/8 inch hole in that cylinder didn’t undo it. The drawer won’t open.
A flashlight in the hole reveals nothing but a small hole and the interior of the cabinet. There appears to be no mechanism I can manipulate from this vantage point.
This is stupid, and I’m getting angry, and the clock is ticking. I would rather not destroy the cabinet, but it’s crazy to have all this stuff right there where I can’t get at it. It’s not like it’s doing me any good?
Screw it, I get the crowbar. Hopefully I can snap whatever is holding the drawers closed without bitching the metal cabinet up too much.
I did mention that this was an army surplus cabinet, didn’t I?
In for a penny in for a pound. I don’t care any more. I’m bending metal, ruing the cabinet, prying and pulling and covered with sweat, and it still won’t give.
Finally I fire up my air hammer with the chisel attachment and cut a big ugly ragged hole in the drawer, grab the conduit and get back to work.
At this point it occured to me. What I really needed was THE JAWS OF LIFE JL-32B UNIT
If I’d have had the Jaws of Life, I would have been in that cabinet in about ten seconds. Better yet, I could have gone in from the back and later all I would have had to do is replace the back with some plywood and I would not have ruined my cabinet.
As I troweled concrete, I fantasized about the Jaws of Life. You know what The Jaws of Life are, don’t you? They are these massively powerful set of spreaders and cutter that rescue workers use to pry people out of car wrecks.
The Jaws of Life open and close with 18,000 pounds of force! 18,000!!
Think of all the things I could do with that!
First off, I could throw my scary chainsaw away. The Jaws of Life are the ultimate pruning shears. Just place the jaws around the base of a tree, and hit the button. It’s just that easy!
Tired of jacking up your car to change a tire? Just place the Jaws of life under it.
Having trouble crimping pipe? Twist head of a screw and can’t get it out? The Jaws of life are just the thing!
They would also be useful around the house for opening stuck doors, lifting or moving anything.
Think how impressed the neighbor will be when you help him out with a project and nonchalantly display your Jaws of Life.
Plus you never know when you get trapped and need to move a boulder, house, trailer, or cut your through a building.
What would you do with infinite force at your disposal?
What would you do with… The Jaws of Life?
