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Max Hartshorne, travel website editor, sharing some of the stuff I read, hear and see with you. Updated every day. Click on the photos to enlarge them.

Frank Sinatra Never Had the Thrill of Painting a Room By Himself

by Max Hartshorne on February 8, 2013

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I often think of the advantages of not being as rich as Frank Sinatra once was. That’s because when you’re a tremendously wealthy singer and movie star, you don’t get the chance to do things that are very satisfying, even if they feel like work.  Whenever I have painting to do, I think, Frank never got a chance to have this satisfying sense of accomplishment, of looking over the room you just painted and sighing that contented sigh of relief.

No, instead he had people come in who did that, or while he was out singing in Las Vegas, they’d come in and paint it all for him. There are some things that give me a tremendous sense of satisfaction, and if I were a very rich man, they’d all be done for me, and I wouldn’t be given the gift of appreciating them.

Tonight was another time when I felt gratitude. Happy to have researched a problem and found out the answer. And pleased that I took the time to tell my neighbor Greg that I was having troubles with my truck, so that later he came over and helped me fix it. I have begun to believe that I can fix a lot more stuff than I ever thought I could.  First I try to think of what the repair guy would do, then I go to Google and find photos to show me how it should look, or what the schematics look like. Then I’ll find a YouTube video which usually will show someone either taking it apart of how they fixed it.

My truck problem began with me thinking it was my starter, so I watched videos of starters being removed and repaired. I didn’t know where the starter was, so that was the first thing I was able to discern. Then after a few friends came by and helped narrow down what was going on, (an electrical problem), I did more web searching. The culprit was a fusable link.  After I found the link and took it out, I was able to get the truck started, but had two little wires still sticking out, as if a tooth had been pulled out of someone’s mouth yet the roots were still stuck in the gums.

Greg, who has been my neighbor for twenty years, works on cars and was happy to help. After 90 long minutes in the cold, he was able to figure out how to fix the fuse and get it all put back together.  This gave me a thrill and I thought, I wonder of Frank ever fixed his own car?

 

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