It should have been different. I have plenty of smart genes in my family. Mama, Daddy, grandparents, aunts and uncles all are of sound mind. Though I hate to admit it even my brothers are fairly sharp intellectually speaking. They have other shortcomings, but we’ll save that for another day. Suffice to say that my family tree has an ample supply of keen and clever brains running through its branches but somehow I missed out. Everybody else got a full helping of intelligence and I got the table scraps.

I have actually gone to a doctor to help me with this problem and my case baffled the poor guy so that Doc referred me to a shrink who eventually diagnosed me as being mechanically and technically dyslexic. Worst case he’d ever seen, according to his written report. No medicine or therapy known to modern science that could rid me of this malady.

Here are some of the ugly truths.

Last fall Daddy and I were building some dove blinds for our field. A reasonably simple task by most accounts but it befuddled my dyslexic mind. Daddy knew this to be the case and although he let me wipe glue on the PVC pipe ends and cut the pipe exactly where he marked it, he wouldn’t let me even touch the tape measure or lay a hand on the connective elbow joints. He knew I’d misread the inches or put the joints on backward. When we took the blinds to the field to set them up I did get to hammer the re-bar stakes into the ground but even that was a little much. I busted my finger when a down stroke was misfired.

That’s just the most recent incident. I also have great difficulty with auto repair. I actually know the difference between the positive and negative posts on the battery, perhaps because they are color coded, but that’s about the extent of my knowledge. When my truck breaks down I usually pop the hood and peer inside like a monkey doing a math problem and then call a tow truck. I even have to concentrate carefully so that I don’t put oil in the radiator.

It is sad to say but my wife is 20 times better than I am at fixing stuff around the house. She lets me put new light bulbs in on occasion, and I’m pretty handy when it comes to sweeping off the front porch. However, I can’t for the life of me get the dishes put in the dishwasher in proper sequence nor can I get the right combination of clothes, washing powder and cycle in the washing machine.

My beautiful and smart wife is also a whiz at woodworking. It goes without saying that I am not. She throws me a bone and keeps my dignity intact by letting me hand her stuff as she needs it, but I cannot touch anything else until the project is completed. I then serve as the carrier of the new piece to its final destination but she watches me carefully en route so that I don’t scratch it.

The list goes on — and on. I have no clue about the inner workings of a shotgun or fishing reel. Most outdoorsmen can tell you the specific reason why a piece of equipment is not working properly and they know how to fix it. If my shotgun won’t shoot or my fishing reel won’t cast I can tell you only one thing about it — it’s broke. I then go buy another cheapo. Most of my gear comes off the bargain rack for this very reason. Best-case scenario is that someone will give me a nice gun or reel for Christmas.

And don’t even get me started about computers, cellphones, texting, tweeting or social media. Those topics leave me utterly dazed and confused. You could put my combined knowledge of those subjects in a thimble and have plenty of room left over. I have to call my children from the landline to ask them which button I’m supposed to hit to send them a text message — and 30 minutes later I’ve finished a 10-word sentence.

At this point in my life I don’t think any of this is going to significantly change. I guess I’ll just have to be happy with plugging along and being a minor assistant to projects that require some mechanical or technical knowledge. It is however, embarrassing to have tell the world that I’m the family idiot.

 I don’t know why I do this stuff to myself.

Send tales of your shortcomings to dar8589@bellsouth.net.