I missed the Hand-wringing 101 class
by Julie Carter
There are some constants for survival that every country
girl learns to utilize beyond feminine charm and tough grit.
In the years of hauling down the road – that’s rodeo talk
for paying entry fees, driving hundreds of miles to perform in the rodeo arena
for a few seconds and then driving home – I often found a need for basics in
emergency management.
Three items consistently required for crisis control were
duct tape, baling wire and WD-40. With those items you could fix anything short
of an amputated limb.
The duct tape covered an assortment of ills ranging from the
horse’s splint boot that wouldn’t stay fastened to the pickup tail light lens
that refused to stay in place.
Duct tape could cover a split in a radiator hose, mark the
rented stall as “taken” or pad a spot that was poking somewhere or something it
shouldn’t. I was decades ahead of not-yet-invented Homeland Security in my use
of duct tape to seal the ills of the world (road dust) out of the camper.
If the rodeo went badly, it was also adequate to stick the
“For Sale” sign prominently across the rear end of the horse I shouldn’t have
bought in the first place.
Baling wire is a generic term for any kind of wire of usable
size to fix all those things you didn’t get around to replacing, welding or
repairing in a proper manner. Sometimes called the “poor man’s welding rod,” no
self-respecting horse trailer or pickup truck should be without it for emergency
repairs of the wiring kind.
It works well for vehicle mechanical repair (tying up the
muffler that just fell off), horse equipment repair (the headstall that broke
as your name is being called to compete) and tying the dog to the trailer hitch
because she slipped her collar and bit the rodeo clown.
WD-40 literally stands for water displacement, 40th attempt.
That is the name straight out of the lab book used by the chemist who developed
WD-40 1953 when he was trying to concoct a formula to prevent corrosion. The
result was a multi-purpose problem solver that has thousands of uses and even
comes with a medical warning for those that spray it on their body joints to
treat arthritis.
Life is easier with WD-40 around and in those times when the
handyman jack wouldn’t jack and the trailer hitch jack was immovable, nothing
was more valuable than that yellow and blue can of magic.
Unless of course you were Barbara.
Barbara, my friend and hauling partner, didn’t need
emergency backup for anything. Barbara was beautiful, very feminine with a
smile and figure that stopped traffic. Perfectly coiffed at all times, she had
long nails, little need for makeup, and a natural charm that emanated like
sonar.
While I was cussing and beating the lug nuts off a flat
horse trailer tire with all the brute strength I could muster, Barbara would
step to the front of the rig and wring her lovely hands in distress. In a
nano-second four linebacker-sized cowboys would appear and with a cowboy drawl
say, “Can we help you out there little lady?”
Shoving me out of the way like a pest would be dismissed,
they would bodily lift the trailer, fix the tire and leave for the rodeo dance
with Barbara on their arm like a prize trophy.
A thousand times since I have wondered when I missed the "Hand Wringing 101" class.
Julie can be reached for comment at jcarternm@gmail.com.
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