Hire a professional for home repairs? Too costly a cop-out

I am a dirty old man, and I like it that way. More importantly, my wife likes it that way.

The funny thing is that I am not alone when it comes to getting down and dirty. In my neighborhood, many guys would have it no other way. Maybe it is a socio-economic thing, or maybe it's just machismo, but in my part of town when the mud flies, the fun is just beginning.

For the past several weeks, my wife and I have been laying ... a new floor. We ripped up the carpet, pulled out the tack strips, cleaned the slab and began laying our new tile. Anyone who has ever laid tile will tell you that it is a messy, backbreaking job, and that is just when you mix the thin set.

Last weekend, after a particularly arduous Saturday morning spent amid the dust of cut tile, I went out to check the mail. I needed to get some air.

Across the street, I spied one of my neighbors piling up garbage bags for green waste pickup. He was in shorts, sneakers, and nothing else — shocking, when you consider he was likely weed-eating the yard.

Even more shocking when you consider that he is not exactly what I would call dainty.

Well, I went over to shoot the breeze, and he told me about the many projects he had on his "honey-do" list. Next up was painting the house.

To be fair, my neighbor is a painter by trade, so I am sure he will do a wonderful job, but there is nothing off-limits for him. If there is a task to be done, you can bet that he will do it and do it well.

I like to think that I am just like him, only without the prerequisite skill set.

So there we were, two grown men, several years under the belt and few pounds over it. He was covered in green waste and I in the cement-gray pallor of the would-be tiler; both feigning fatigue and resignation, but secretly reveling in our duties and wearing our soot and grime like medals.

If I were smarter or wealthier, I would hire someone to do the work for me. Sadly, I am neither. When I was younger, I would joke that I had a body by Nautilus and a brain by Mattel. Twenty years later and I no longer have the body by Nautilus!

Paying someone else to do the work has never really been an option. That is truer now than ever before. Thanks to that doggone gas cap, I am so broke, I cannot even pay attention.

No truthfully, even if paying someone else were an option, I could not do it. I would feel like I was betraying my working-class roots.

Besides, my wife digs it when I get dirty. We both know deep down inside I am earning my keep and fulfilling my duties. My handiwork likely leaves much to be desired, but if my wife approves, that is all that matters.

In my house, if you are too clean, you are either too lazy, too rich or having an affair.

Someone pass me the thin set. I have work to do.

Michael C. DeMattos is on faculty at the University of Hawai'i School of Social Work. He lives in Kane'ohe with his wife, daughter and two dogs.