Lots of Holes in this Story

Twenty years ago my wife presented me with an electronic stud finder to help me hang heavy stuff on our walls. Twenty years later, our walls are full of more holes than a beehive, holes that lead into empty space, not studs. This is because the stud finder is a useless piece of crap.

I could take a stick and go out in the back yard and discover an underground spring of water faster than I could find a stud with this silly thing. And yet, I bring the darned device out every once in a while, pop a new battery in it and proceed to try to get it to find a stud behind some drywall. But it is apparent that it couldn’t find one if our walls were made of glass and the studs were covered in labels stating “Stud Here.”

So, back in the bottom of the toolbox it goes and I start drilling holes into empty drywall like an ice fisherman, looking for a good spot. If I ever hit a stud, it has been completely by accident.

This week, I had to attach something to a wall and this time, no mistakes could be permitted. So, I drilled four huge holes you could stick your little finger through, into the wall in question, and came nowhere near any studs. I should be given a prize for being that successful at avoiding all studs.

Desperate, I got the stud finder and gave it one more shot. Turning it on, I soon saw that it was as useless as ever. The green light should obviously indicate a stud, a red light, no stud. Nope, nope, nope. I was just about to throw that freakin’ thing through the window when I noticed some writing on the back. The words there were instructions on how to use it.

And this is how low I had sunk – I read them for the first time.

The green light only indicates the device is on. The red light comes on when one side of the stud is found and goes off when it leaves the other side. As simple as sneezing in a pepper factory. Applying these directions, I discovered that the thing works perfectly.

Imagine that! And all these years, those stupid directions were hiding in plain sight unlike all those darned studs it has never found.

©2012 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.