deconstructing la mesa de computadora

I admire people who can do things with their hands.


They are all over the Mexico blogs. You cannot read very long before running across this crafty lot.


Calypso with his tools and construction projects. Theresa and Nancy with their knitting and sewing skills. Even Felipe with his grassy dreams.


Not me. When I see the initials "DIY" on any box, I know it is not for me. It is not coincidental that the term should be pronounced: "DIE."


And I come by it honestly. My father was great at many things. Fixing things was not one of them.


Over the years, I have proven this defect in my skills. I have a list of disasters that would make Warren Harding look like a piker.


With that load of neuroses in my backpack, I wandered off to Manzanillo to buy a computer table for the new house.


It seemed to be a simple task, but nothing was offered assembled. Everything came in a box. From China.


I finally chose a nice wood and glass combination that would fit perfectly in the guest bedroom. About $200 (US). But it looked nice on the box. The fact that the floor model was falling apart should have been some sort of warning.


The home owner allowed me to start putting the table together this week.


I looked at the instructions. I knew my Spanish would not be up to the task. But the Chinese manufacturer must not have had Spanish skills, either, because the instructions were in picture form. Great, thought I. Forgetting that lots of Mayan hieroglyphics have yet to be translated.


Another pleasant surprise, the entire table could be assembled using a little allen wrench. And it was enclosed with the hardware. How cool is that?


Within ten minutes I had the full frame put together. With everything as pictured. I was impressed. My confidence was building.


Then I noticed, there were no holes drilled for the wheels. And no screws. No problema. I could borrow a power drill and screws are sold everywhere. Hurdle crossed. Angst stuffed back into the backpack.


I knew the next step would be a little more difficult. The surface for my laptop was a large slab of glass supported on two metal columns. Snazzy look. I put the glass where I could reach it to balance it on the columns.


I know what you are thinking. But just wait. Show some respect for the master builder.


OK. Now you can start doubting.


I am still not certain what happened next. I must have budged the glass with my foot. I know it did not fall over. Instead, it simply exploded into thousands of shards. Almost as if a sniper had barely missed turning my head into an exploding melon.


I was left was a nifty little building project that has ended similar to all of my past construction projects. I have a great topless table.


The clever ones amongst you will have a lot of suggestions on how to salvage this. For now, I am simply going to use the kitchen table.


Next time, I will simply take a ball peen hammer and break the glass before I start another project.


May as well jump to the chase.