Where were YouTube “How-To” videos when I was a kid?

I often joke with my sons about my tough childhood.  The punch line usually involves how we didn’t have a remote control for the TV set.  “Yes, if I wanted to watch one of the other three channels, I had to GET UP from the sofa, and WALK to the television set to change channels.”  The joke, of course, is that compared to my parents, I had it very easy.  They talked about riding horses on unpaved trails, and working in the fields dusk ’til dawn, and my sob story is about a remote control.

Since my dad came up the hard way, he learned how to fix just about anything.  In the family store, I was usually assigned counter duty while he was repairing the freezer, the truck, or whatever had broken down.  He was also busy repairing customers’ chainsaws, changing the oil in their cars, or instructing them on which plumbing and electrical parts they needed. Then he would pass them off to me, where I expertly punched the buttons on the cash register, and gave them the correct change.  To this day, I can calculate your change in a split second, but I’m not so handy with tools.

That is, until YouTube came along. There are “How-To” videos on just about any topic.  Before YouTube, I had to learn to tie a necktie on my own.  My dad showed me a couple of times, and with the help of a mirror, I figured it out after about 2,000 tries.  Now you can go online and be an expert in minutes.  In fact, you can learn ten different ways to tie a tie, which would be nine more than I ever learned.

The last time I bought a weed-eater, it was quite different from the one I’d had before. It came with a tiny, hard-to-read instruction manual.  I took one look at it, and was more confused than ever. So rather than goof up right out of the box, I looked it up on YouTube, and a kind fellow had posted a video intended for a klutz like me. Suddenly I too, was an expert.

But my favorite YouTube how-to moment, and maybe my first, happened a few years ago on a Sunday afternoon.  Without getting into graphic detail, let’s just say there was a toilet malfunction.  It was the type of mishap my dad could have cleared up instantly.  Me, I always called a plumber. But on this day, there were no plumbers available.  I couldn’t even find a plunger.  Again, at the risk of giving you too much information, just know that this particular toilet really needed to work, and fast.

On my own, I couldn’t think of a solution that wouldn’t create a mess of historical proportions.  My only shot was YouTube. I looked up “how to unclog a toilet,” and sure enough, another nice man had posted a video.  (Best I could tell, it was not the same kindly gentleman who taught me how to start my weed-eater.)  Thanks to some boiling water, and a little bit of dish soap, I was soon flushed with success.

Where was YouTube on all those occasions when I struggled to assemble baby beds, chairs, tables, desks, or anything that required instructions and a screwdriver?  These asks that most humans can complete in thirty minutes tied me up for hours.  Most often, these projects only got done because I had put so many things on backwards, I would simply get lucky after repeatedly starting over.  “There, that finally looks right!” my wife would say. “Now, leave it alone and go watch TV.”  I would gladly follow her order, because by then, I had a working remote control.

Come to think of it, the TV set is the only object I’ve truly mastered.  I’ve never needed a YouTube video to hook up cable, recorders, or speakers, or to navigate those tricky inputs and channel guides.  In fact, my father-in-law is convinced I’m a genius because I can always solve his TV problems.  I’ve driven to his home many times, easing his frustrations in the middle of a crucial golf tournament or tennis match. Keep in mind, this man has assembled many desks, chairs and tables, but is unable to master the mysteries of his TV set.

I guess in a way, I’m his personal YouTube how-to video. Maybe I’m good for something after all.