However, that is not the case for the grommet in question.
It was impossible not to notice the water on the basement floor, dripping and dropping from my stepmom's furnace. When next we spoke, I mentioned it - fairly sure that it would not come as a surprise, even though she can't see a thing. Frances has been blind since the age of seven - a chilhood fever. She allowed having noticed it a few days ago. 'I felt it on my face. I'll have to call my handyman, I suppose - but I knew you were coming and was waiting.'
Formerly, I was her handyman -- but I now live on the other side of the country and was only in town for a brief visit. 'I want you to meet him, his name is Jerry. He's been very good, but you can still tell me your impressions.'
After a quick introduction Jerry and I descended the basement stairs. Prior to his arrival I had made a brief inspection and had my own idea about the nature of the problem. I was keeping this information to myself for the moment. However, Jerry was quick to draw the same conclusions -- the moisture that naturally accumulates from the air-conditioning was not getting pumped out.
This led Jerry (as it earlier had led me) to an inspection of the pump to which these duties are assigned. As water drains from the collection tray under the evaporator it fills a reservoir at the bottom of this pump. When the reservoir is full the unit kicks on, ideally, and pumps the water into the laundry tub. Jerry deduced that the reservoir was indeed full, and that the pump was indeed, doing nothing.
'Pump's failed. I'll have to get another one.' And that's what he did.
We have noted before, in other handyman adventures , this tendency to look at things as 'modules'. Jerry was looking at the pump as a module, as well he should. The pump/module was the problem -- replace it. He isn't inclined nor does he have the time to investigate: why isn't the pump working?
I do.
The interesting parts of the pump are under a cover held on by two screws. By removing the cover I could see how the thing was supposed to operate. A float in the reservoir would rise with the water level until it tripped a switch that operated the pump. Since the pump is the same age as the furnace -- nearly 20 years -- my first thought was that the float had become waterlogged. But no, it still bobbed up and down nicely. A slim metal rod attached to the float moves up along with it as the water level increases, and that's when I noticed the grommet.
Two grommets, actually. They are both rather small as grommets go, and rather than serve their usual function - inserted in a hole to cover the sharp edges, here they have been slipped over the actuating rod and serve as 'stops'. The bottom one pushes up on the switch as the water level increases and the top one pulls the switch back down as the water recedes. Over countless thousands of cycles the bottom grommet had gradually been pushed farther and farther down the operating rod -- until even when the float was at the top of its range -- the grommet was too far down the rod to activate the pump.
I pushed the grommet back up to its original position, and of course the pump operated just fine. I figured that it would probably work just fine for another 20 years, especially with a dab of silicone to hold it in place.
However -- this isn't my house and I'm not going to be around to test the theory. Jerry was doing the right thing under the circumstances, namely, replace the older pump/module.
Here's the new pump in place on the furnace~~
Which is what he did. As we waited for the reservoir to fill on the new pump I attempted to show him my discovery -- the grommet actuated switch on the old pump. However, I could tell immediately that Jerry was taking this as criticism, so I hastened to reassure him that he had done the correct thing and that I would have done the same thing in his place. Then he grudgingly looked at the old pump and allowed that my discovery was -- interesting.
Here's a thought --
If Jerry had taken the time (about 10 minutes) to pull the cover on the old pump and slide the grommet up as I had, he would have been able to charge for the service call, and tell my stepmom that she was back in business using the old pump. He could mention that he had saved her $150, and if the old pump finally did fail he would have picked up another service call. He doesn't make any money on the new pump, anyway.
I told Frances that after all was said and done, I had a good impression of Jerry.
This issue about being willing to try and repair things is a funny business. While I was in town I fixed the handle on the kitchen faucet for my stepsister, who has two teenage sons -- either of whom could have done the repair if they were so inclined. Since it wasn't getting fixed, she was starting to look at the whole faucet as a module - a faucet module - and contemplating having it replaced at a substantial expense. It is a pretty fancy kitchen faucet. My stepsister had ordered the handle part several months earlier, and the instructions came with it. Unfortunately, it was still sitting under the sink - just waiting for someone to do the fixing. The hardest thing was finding a screwdriver.
The older nephew had just obtained his driver's license, so I decided to equip him with a small toolbox containing the few basic but necessary items. Along with the toolbox I gave him a bit of advice which had been given to me 40 odd years ago, truly changing the course of my life.
At that time I was going into the carwash business. We had hired a plumber to hook up all the various pieces of equipment. Soon after he started, our plumber went missing, leaving all his tools. When he didn't show up after several days and the plumbing work was falling behind, one of the carwash equipment representatives suggested, 'Why don't you finish the plumbing?'
Me finish the plumbing? I've never done any plumbing in my life!
Look, he said, all the equipment is right here. You have an idea what's entailed from the work he has already begun. Make your measurements, cut and thread the pipe. It's all just common sense.
I plumbed the carwash, using my common sense and the tools provided. There was a learning curve and I made a few mistakes, but it got done. The plumber never returned, and I still have the tools.
'It's all just common sense', I told my nephew. 'When something needs fixing, what's the worst that can happen if you try to fix it? It doesn't get fixed, and you're no worse off than before you began. And if you do fix it, you can pat yourself on the back and say, I fixed it!'
The notion that one may accomplish things by using common sense and being willing to try, has stood me in good stead, lo these many years.
Just the other day while at the doctors, I noticed a piece of equipment sitting unplugged on the counter, where usually there is nothing. What's that thing, I inquired? An icemaker that quit working , we're getting a new one.
The one sitting there looked pretty new to me, so I inquired, What will happen to this one?
I guess we're going to pitch it.
Perhaps you would let me try to fix it?
Well, sure, if you want to. But we're getting a new one, anyway.
They were viewing the icemaker as a module. It had only cost a couple hundred dollars new and the decision was made to replace it rather than risk paying the HVAC-R (heating, ventilation, air conditioning and refrigeration) guy for a service call - and perhaps end up replacing it anyway.
The main thing wrong with this unit (easily seen once the cover was removed) was that the cooling fins were clogged with dust. That, and the fact that it was a light duty machine -- not really intended for the kind of 24/7 use in which it had been serving.
This is a perfect example of the adage -- Don't spend just enough to fail. Rather than cough up an initial investment for a machine suitable to their needs in ice making, they bought a less expensive model which failed within a year.
It is once again making ice, and all I did was blow the dust out of it.
So -- the next time something breaks at your house, before you pick up the phone -- you might ask yourself, 'Hey! Maybe I can fix this thing... it's all just common sense.'