For my entire life, I’ve shied away from anything that involves building or fixing.  My dad’s dad was a salesman and my dad was too busy spending time with us to care about building or fixing.  I am, without a doubt, one of the least handy people I know. 

And not just unhandy; I’m talking about basic common sense when it comes to doing anything that requires thinking about how physical objects work.  Last week at Aldi when I was returning the cart, after I fumbled around for 30 seconds while frustrated shoppers shook their heads, my 6-year-old figured out how to reconnect the cart to retrieve the quarter.  Anything that requires assembly in my home goes directly to Andrea, and usually when I try to help out I mess something up. Legos?  Forget it.  Even with step-by-step directions, my boys will shoo me out of the room within a few pages of the complicated booklet. “Dad, go get mom.  You’re really bad at building stuff.”

And until recently, I’d accepted this as my lot.  I’m a 45-year-old man who experiences actual anxiety when asked to screw in a lightbulb.

But this year, something changed. At first I thought it was about me, but upon reflection I realized it was about my friends and their ability to share their knowledge in a completely non-judgmental way. Matt taught me how to install a paver path. Doug showed me how to put in a flush valve in a toilet. Chris and Andre taught me to operate a drill properly while they built a woodshed at the cottage. When Andrea wanted to remove the porch railing, Jim put a sawzall in my hands for the first time in my life and said, “Rory, I believe in you.”

And it’s extended beyond fixing stuff: Peter taught me the art of the perfectly diced onion. Aaron C. taught me to play Pickleball (sorry Aaron, you’ll never beat me again). Aaron B. taught me to swing a kettlebell. Jason is my personal sommelier. Scott walked me through the steps of deep frying a turkey (that one I passed on this year–no viable wingman).

My dude network has become a personal ChatGPT for the skills I’ve always wanted but was too fixed in my mindset to learn.

There was a time when if you didn’t ask for help, you were eaten by a tiger. These days we can hide in our digital bubbles and scroll Youtube to fix a drain or install a toilet or dice an onion. Every time we would have turned to a human being, we turn to a screen.

So we’re enabled to stop learning from our tribe, which means to stop connecting, which means to stop growing.

I read somewhere that the first step in building a strong social network is not offering help, but asking for help. Either I’m helpless or I have a lot of friends. Maybe both?

Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got to clean my grill.

Any ideas?