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12/18/2012 11:00 PMWhen you grow up in the boonies, you can't run to the store whenever you need something. You have to make do with what's at hand. Even if there's a local hardware or DIY store nearby, chances are it's not open when you need the stuff you need to fix the stuff you need to fix.
And, if you grew up in the olden days or at least in the last century, chances are you experienced the marvelous evolution of household products, tools, and resources to support your existence in the modern era.
For example, my father kept a fully stocked basement of all the supplies needed to repair something in every room of our old country home. He also used whatever he could find in the corner of the garage, a closet, or in a kitchen cupboard. These were fairly primitive specimens.
Take a bathroom problem, for instance. Hanging on the wall above the workbench in the basement, my father kept his tightly coiled snakes for just such a concern. There was the little, short snake for fishing out bantam-sized toilet clogs. Next to it hung the cobra-a behemoth wound in a tight spiral just waiting to spring for a subterranean congestion. Uncurled, that giant snake could twist its way deep into the outdated septic system. For under $20, the humble toilet snake can handle a modicum of mess.
The evolution of the toilet snake is a completely different animal: Depending on size, the Workhorse costs between $1,000 and $3,000 and no longer depends on human will and fortitude, but is machine-powered. For a sizeable obstruction though, it's worth calling in a modern-day plumber.
As youngsters, we used Elmer's glue (the one with the cow on the packaging) to attach one thing to another, costing just a couple of bucks a bottle. For school projects, the cow paste was adequate, but for the lion's share of household tasks, it was just too weak. Using something stronger meant turning on the bare bulb in the basement, watching the shadows bob eerily on the walls as you traipsed down the wide stairs, and navigating the wooden boards that crisscrossed the floor so your feet wouldn't get wet. (The sump pump was temperamental-a prehistoric dinosaur of a machine.)
In the bowels of the basement, my father's workbench contained a section with fasteners, c-clamps, Gorilla Glue, and Gorilla Tape. Less than $10 will buy you a powerful adhesive in a bottle or in a roll that would take an orangutan to rip it apart.
Of all the frustrating fixes, the worst one was the TV. We lived in the hills and far from any signal that allowed reception for more than two or three channels, depending on what year it was. The snow that filled the television set magnified the flakes as they drew closer to the curved center of the little box-no flat screens. Wavy pictures and horizontal lines chased each other faster and faster up and down the screen. The static noise that filled the room had my siblings and I screaming, "Dad! DAD! DAAAAAAD! HELP!"
When my father came to our rescue with wire hangers pilfered from the hall closet and a box of tin foil nabbed from a kitchen drawer, we watched the evolution of the rabbit ears as they grew longer and fatter. The crumpled wads of aluminum looked like fat hot dogs. My father wiggled them around until they caught the air waves of the universe.
Today, garter snakes slither around the yard (but no recent cobra sightings) and I've plugged the phone number of a plumber into my contact list (a modern-day Rolodex). The flat-screen TV displays high-definition digital video images streamed from my Android phone, snug in its OtterBox case. The Droid is truly one of the most advanced revolutionary creatures of these modern times. But no amount of glue or tin foil will bring it back in line with the cosmos if it breaks down.
About the only thing that hasn't evolved in my world is the rubber ducky sitting in my antiquated claw-foot bathtub.
Naomi Migliacci is an international consultant who enjoys traveling and adventure. She collects friends and bracelets wherever she goes. She lives in Guilford.