THE DREADED PROFESSIONAL SHRUG

Have you ever had an auto mechanic, doctor or a repairperson give you “the shrug?” I have had this happen many times, and it happened again today. In other words, they can’t fix the problem so they shrug and say, “I don’t know.” I dread the shrug because I know it is going to mean a lot of money to replace or fix something.

Because we are writers (and in my case, even worse, a PR person), we can’t fix anything including the four-month-old towel rack project of Vince’s. So, we take it to a professional. You name it, we can’t fix it. My friends, Pat and Hooper, can fix anything. They have multiple tools and replacement parts for everything. In our house, if it can’t be fixed with duct tape, it goes to the shop, the doctor, the vet or the garbage. This includes cars, vacuum cleaners, cats, plumbing, electrical and anything else. Because of this we spend a lot of money. Neither of us got the “fix it” gene.

I go through vacuum cleaners like some people go through beer before an SEC football game. I have four broken vacuum cleaners in my garage. I never knew why I had this problem until last weekend when I was in Northern Virginia. My friend Marie said, “It’s cat hair.” The light bulb went off in my head. Having gone through at least twenty vacuum cleaners over the years, it never occurred to me that it could be cat hair. Coming from Marie, another animal lover with rescue cats and dogs, this was brilliant.

The last vacuum cleaner broke about three weeks ago. It was going along fine and then I smelled rubber burning. I looked at the wheels, which I assume were made of rubber, but they were still there. I called to Vince. He said maybe it needs a belt. I knew better than to ask him to fix it. So, I let it sit for three weeks. I was about to retire it to the garage where the rest of the vacuum morgue resides, hoping that it would miraculously regenerate itself one day and it would be fixed. The dirt was beginning to get to me yesterday which means it was pretty bad. So, I put the most vacuum in the car and went to the vacuum repair place.

The repairman said it needed a hospital stay to be diagnosed. I picked it up today and they guy gave me “the shrug.” He didn’t know what was wrong. One more vacuum down the drain. He couldn’t figure it out.
The van from hell.............

Then there was the case of the infamous van from hell. To avoid getting sued, I won’t say exactly what kind of van it was (besides a lemon) but it rhymes with Lodge Fairavan, the worst car I’ve ever owned. From the day I bought it, it overheated. I went to four different auto repair shops, including the “Lodge” dealer. They all gave me “the shrug.” Nobody could fix this piece of “garbage” (can also rhyme with “scrap”). Finally, I heard of an old German guy in Woodbridge, Virginia who prided himself on fixing the most difficult problems. He did diagnose the problem, but he couldn’t fix it. The fan was installed upside down. He shrugged and said “I don’t know how to fix it.” It was returned to the dealership with a few “constructive” comments. That was a tough “shrug.” I never bought another “Lodge” or “Fhrysler” vehicle again.

When a doctor tells you they don’t know how to fix something, it’s really disheartening. Having really bad knees because of an ice-skating and dancing habit I had in younger years, is not good. When the Washington Redskins doctor looked at the x-rays and MRI’s, he said, “How do you walk on those?” He shrugged and said he couldn’t do anything. I have falling kneecaps and they aren’t going to get better, even with surgery. I am probably about 200 pound lighter than some linebackers he regularly saw, but I was a hopeless case. That was another depressing “shrug.”

The vet and my old cat Belle is a “good shrug” story. Belle was given six months to live three years ago. Belle forgot to look at the calendar because she is still alive, happy, fat and eats like a horse. The vet can’t figure out why she is still alive, so I got a good “shrug” from Dr. Seifert a few weeks ago.

The only person who has never given me the “shrug” is my hairdresser, Missy, in Dale City, VA. She is so good that I go up there, 1,000 miles round trip, twice a year. I have a great hairdresser in Knoxville, but Missy is like part of the family. She has been doing all of our hair since 1985, before Julianne even made an appearance. I first went to her with awful hair that someone in D.C. messed up royally. Dry, split ends and an awful brassy blond, I pleaded for help. At the time, I think Missy was all of about 18, but she knew color. She fixed my mess by reverse frosting.
Color of Lindsay's hair , a result of "Sun-In"

Another time, Lindsay came back from my mother’s in Florida one summer with a hair disaster. I took one look at her as she got off the plane and I about fainted. She apparently had been attacked by an army of “Sun-In.” Remember “Sun-In?” That real cheap lightener that made your hair a greenish-orange? We all used it in high school, but that was in the 70’s! I immediately called Missy, telling her it was a hair emergency, and could we come that afternoon. Once again, Missy didn’t “shrug,” and she fixed Lindsay’s hair in time for her first day of high school marching band camp. This took many months to darken and then lighten, and it cost far more than the “Sun-In.”

Missy stuck by us through thick and thin. She repaired everything… like when Maren cut Julianne’s hair and when Julianne cut Maren’s hair. She also did all the up-do’s for the proms and homecomings throughout high school, an emergency foil frost before Lindsay’s wedding, and great styles twice a year for all the shows I directed at the retirement community. Our kids are almost the same age, two are moms, and it has been fun to keep up with her over the years.

Thanks, Missy, for not “shrugging” and never giving up on our hopeless hair.

We still can’t find anyone who can fix the towel rack. Anyone want a free broken vacuum cleaner?