Clean Floors

The other day I stopped at the credit union to make a deposit, while on my way to Aunt Di’s house. When I walked inside the building, one lady was vacuuming the carpet while another was mopping the floors. Without thinking I instinctively slipped out of my boots at the front door. Wearing just my socks I proceeded to the teller line.
The teller looked at me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to make a deposit,” I replied.
“No,” she said. “I meant, why did you take your boots off?”
I blushed because I didn’t really consider that I had taken my boots off in a commercial building. “Hey, when I come into the house and see somebody vacuuming and another person mopping, I know better than to track across those clean floors with my wet boots. My mama didn’t raise no dummies. Well, except for my one brother, he’s not real bright.” We shared a good laugh about that. I made my deposit and then went to Di’s house. 
Aunt Di’s would be running errands and told me I could use her garage to work on my truck while she was out. Her garage is heated, and it was pretty cold outside, so I truly appreciated her generosity. When she backed her car out, I pulled my truck straight in and closed the door.
I got out of my truck and opened the back door, pulling out a piece of cardboard. I slid it underneath the motor of my truck. My truck has 170,000 miles on it and will occasionally drip transmission fluid. I wanted to make sure I didn’t get any on her floor. 
My dad was always a stickler for clean garage floors and driveways with no oil spots or car fluids dripping on the ground. He always had a piece of cardboard laid out on the floor under his car, just in case.
When I was a very young boy, my uncle John (Di’s husband) was moving from Mason City, Iowa, to Alaska. John was driving his Triumph TR3; a small sports car with a rag top. Along the way he stopped at our house in Rapid City, to visit my mom. 
Uncle John had been having some car trouble. While he was at our house he worked on his motor. I don’t remember a lot of the details, but I do remember there was oil spilled on the concrete driveway and my dad had a conniption fit. I guess John should’ve put some cardboard down before working on the car. I always remember that incident, but I digress.
I bought my first motor vehicle from Jerry Smith’s Cycle Ranch when I was just 15. It was a used, 1974 Kawasaki KZ 400 with really low miles. My brother Gerard went with me and bought an identical bike. We went together to negotiate a better deal. I didn’t even have a drivers license, but my golly, I had a motorcycle!
My first car was a 1968 Volkswagen Beetle. The VW gave me fits with an engine that frequently vapor locked in the summer. The Bug did not have good heat at all, so I usually rode my motorcycle in the winter. It was cold, but not any colder than the Bug, and in the car I constantly had to keep scraping frost off the flat windshield.
It didn’t take long for me to grow tired of the Volkswagen. I sold it and bought my brother Gerard’s car, a 1974 Chevy Nova, with a darn good heater and real defrosters. That was a cool car. I didn’t have much money back then and so I always changed my own oil. Even though we had a gravel driveway, I put cardboard down to catch any drips or spills. I recalled a lot of fond memories in Di’s garage as I put the cardboard under my Dodge truck.
I have owned a lot of vehicles over the years; some of them, trouble, free, and others were just one problem after another. Of all the cars I owned I’d never had a problem like this. My windshield wipers on my truck would stop working intermittently. 
Sometimes it was the right wiper, sometimes the left, and then they would quit working altogether. It turned out the nuts that that hold the wiper arms were working loose. I tightened them, but they’d work loose again. I bought lock washers, but they were too thick. I found a temporary solution. I put a bottle of Windex and a squeegee in the backseat, but the first time I needed it, the Windex was frozen solid. I knew how to fix it properly.
I pulled the truck into the garage and removed the nuts from both wiper arms. In the house, I asked, “Di, do you know if John has any Loctite in the garage?” I forgot to stop by the auto parts store to pick some up on the way. (I guess I was distracted still laughing about taking my boots off at the credit union.)
“There should be some out there,” Di said. “You’ll have to look around on the shelves.” 
A tube of Loctite is only a couple inches tall, not much bigger than a tube of superglue. I don’t think John ever threw away a bolt, or a nut. He kept them all because “I might need that someday.” This was going to be a chore. It might be easier to walk to the parts store.

I searched for about 30 minutes and finally gave up. I was going to walk to Auto Value; they would have Loctite. I hated buying a tube when all I needed was two drops. I’d never find it, and besides, the top would be stuck on by the time I need it again. Just as I was ready to leave the garage, I said “Wait a minute, what’s that?” Right there on the shelf, I found it, the small tube of Loctite.
I retrieved the little tube but was concerned about the product still being good. You see, John passed away 10 years ago, and I’ve got a hunch he brought that Loctite with him when he moved from Alaska. Lord only knows how old it was, and if the cap would even come off. I don’t have good luck in resealing small tubes.
I usually get one or maybe two uses from a new tube of superglue. After that, the cap seems to have welded itself to the threads. One time I tried to use two pairs of pliers to loosen the cap on a tube of superglue. As it turned out, the pliers cut the little foil tube and superglue leaked all over the pliers. I set them down to find something to clean up the mess and came back to find the superglue tube was welded to my pliers. Argh! I was pretty sure the cap was not going to come off this old tube of Loctite.
Knowing better than to try pliers, I put on a pair of rubber gloves in case the tub bursts; I didn’t want that red goop all over my fingers. Much to my surprise, the cap came right off. I expected the product to be dried out but I squeezed the tube over a paper towel just in case. Amazing! The product was still liquid.
I put a drop on the driver side wiper bolt threads and then resecured the nut. I did the same for the left side. I turned the wipers on. They seem to be working but the truth would lie in the days ahead.
I drove the truck to Duluth and back twice since then and both times the roads were wet and it was snowing. I had to use the washers and wipers frequently, and they’re still holding. Sometimes when I’m driving, I have time to think about ridiculous things. As I drove along, I wondered why lids and caps get so sticky.
Just the other day, I was fixing a cup of hot tea and wanted to add some honey, but I couldn’t get the lid off the jar. I tried using a rubber grip and it still wouldn’t come off. Finally, I ran the jar under hot water, and the lid unthreaded easily. 
I could go down to my basement and find at least five (dozen) tubes of partially used caulk or adhesive. They’re all sealed but the caps never come off. I always end up cutting the tip of the tube off with the cap. I most often end up throwing them away just because even though the product was resealed, it dried out inside. It is beyond me how lids and caps can weld themselves back to a jar or a tube. 
I started thinking more about it and wondered why the cap on Johns tube of Loctite didn’t seal to the tube. Isn’t Loctite supposed to lock threads? And what about the tube of superglue that’s in my junk drawer right now? I got curious and went to check it.
Sure enough, the cap is on so tight I could twist until my fingers bleed and still wouldn’t get it open. I went to get two pairs of pliers to see if I could get the superglue open. Just then I realized, I don’t have any cardboard to put down over the table or the floor. If that superglue spurts out like it did last time, my wife will have a conniption! My mama didn’t raise no dummies – except that one brother of mine.
I decided it wasn’t worth the test, especially since I don’t even need any superglue right now. I put the tube back in my junk drawer among the small screws, nails, picture hanging brackets, wire nuts, eye hooks, rubber bands, and spare nuts and bolts. I keep these things because you never know when I might need them. And one never knows when they’ll need a tube of dried superglue.