By Mike Leidemann
Advertiser Staff Writer

There's probably nothing more unmanly than having to call a handyman into your home.

Handymen expose all the flaws in your upbringing. They show off all your weaknesses. They leave you wide open for ridicule.

After all, there are some things even the most ham-handed house husbands should be able to handle. Simple, quick-fix things like unclogging a drain, spackling a drywall or jump-starting a car.

Still, some of us are congenitally unable to fix anything that doesn't involve changing the AA batteries on a remote control. Unfortunately, we're the same people who will turn a leak into a flood before calling in a plumber, live in darkness for two days before admitting that we need an electrician or ride the bus for a week rather than change a dashboard fuse.

When my wife's car died at the supermarket and she hiked home carrying a small watermelon last month, I promised to get it started myself the next morning, knowing full well I should have just called AAA right then.

But no! I had to do it myself first. I pounded on the battery, cleaned the cables, tightened the nuts (with a $5.99 crescent wrench bought in Safeway's all-purpose emergency isle), ran the jumper cable from one car to the next, all without success.

An hour later, the AAA guy was preparing to tow the car to a repair shop when he decided (just for the heck of it, I suppose) to give the car a jump start himself. Of course, it cranked right over.

A day or two later, my wife came home and found the refrigerator on the fritz, melted butter dripping all over the place. She suggested, gently, that I call a repairman, knowing how much that hurts.

When Gus the Appliance Guy arrived, he knew what was wrong even before he opened the door. He was kind enough to suggest that the broken seal, which I looked at every day, was an easy enough thing to miss. About $100 later, my refrigerator was cool as a cucumber again, my wife was happy and I was chagrined.

Of course, I should take comfort in the things that I can do well around the house. I can prune the ficus tree brilliantly, cook a full-course Thanksgiving dinner, and hang the Christmas lights from the eaves with ease.

None of these things, however, provide the same sense of accomplishment as working with tools.

I once knew a woman who took all the family tools with her when she divorced her husband; to add insult to injury she bought him one of those all-in-one screwdriver-pliers-wire-cutter contraptions the following Christmas.

Years ago, after we had moved into a new home, I searched for months to find a carpenter who would come in and patch a piece of rotting board below our new living room window.

When one finally consented to even consider doing the job, he took one look at the project, laughed, and said "Hey, you don't need a carpenter. You could do that yourself."

If only that was true.

Reach Mike Leidemann at 525-5460 or mleidemann@honoluluadvertiser.com.