Some guys’ fathers taught them how to tinker and fix things.
Others passed on house maintenance skills.
And still others made sure their sons learned how to build stuff.
Me?
My father taught me how to hold the flashlight.
Well, he didn’t really teach me. It was more like on-the-job-training.
“Higher. Now over a bit. Aw c’mon… what’s the matter with you?”
With his constant stream of positive reinforcement, I got good at my craft.
Very good.
Soon I was able to laser focus a beam of light on a torx head screw from three feet away without even looking.
“Okay, shine the light here,” he said one day, pointing his finger to a particularly dark spot.
Boom. Done.
“Now, here,” he said.
Nailed it.
As you can imagine, this particular skillset was quite attractive to employers.
“I see you’re a professional flashlight holder,” the guy said as he looked over my resume.
“More of an advanced apprentice, but I appreciate the compliment.”
“That’s all well and good, but can you do anything else? Can you tinker and fix things? Build stuff? Any good at maintenance?”
It was the same everywhere until that one fateful day.
I was in the middle of an interview when the lights went out.
It was uncomfortably dark for a few minutes as the interviewer rummaged through a desk drawer, looking for a flashlight.
He grabbed one and frantically slid the switch… nothing happened.
He slapped the body of the flashlight in his hand then hit the switch again.
Even more nothing.
Just then, the lights came back on.
“May I see that?” I asked, gently taking the flashlight. I unscrewed the top and examined the batteries and then the lightbulb.
“Here’s your problem,” I said. “This flashlight is rated at 1000 lumens at 10 watts. Sucked the juice right out of your batteries.”
The interviewer stared at me blankly.
“Now if you were to replace these flashlights with ones that come in at 800 lumens, they’re only pulling 8 watts. Saves batteries. Saves money.”
“That’s amazing,” he said. “Brilliant.”
I was stunned.
All those years of flashlight holding paid off. I had no idea the wisdom I had gained. What other hidden powers did I possess?
The interviewer held out his hand, grabbed mine, and shook it vigorously.
“You’re hired!”
After a few weeks as a newbie fry guy, they promoted me to head fry guy where I was in charge of two other fry guys and the fryer itself.
Until one day, the boss was running around the back of the restaurant, yelling in a panic.
“The toilet won’t stop running! It’s going to overflow!”
I calmly left my fry guy manager station, walked into the men’s room, and jiggled the handle on the toilet.
Crisis averted.
Turns out I had learned many useful skills as a kid.
Thanks Dad.