A Lesson in DIY Plumbing

I learned another lesson in do-it-yourself plumbing this week. It cost me $144.

The lesson can be summed up in three words I never seem to master: Don't do it!

Why is it that whenever I tempt fate by trying to fix a plumbing problem I am forever stymied and must resort to Plan B, otherwise known as, call the plumber? Case in point—about a year ago the lift chain in one of our toilet tanks ended its useful life. Seemed like a simple enough repair. After all, we all have those type of metal ball chains, like the ones at the end of nail clippers, but longer, lying around in overstuffed utility drawers. Took me longer to find the replacement chain than it did to install it. Piece of cake. That is, until the replacement died shortly thereafter, much too early in its useful life, if you ask me. I dutifully replaced it with another chain, only to be disappointed again, not to mention inconvenienced by not having a working toilet. 

Rick the Plumber knew right away what I had done wrong. I was using an ordinary chain which rapidly corroded in water. I needed to use a special water-resistant plumber’s chain. Who knew? 

Anyway, back to the current problem. The hot water lever in the master bathroom sink leaked. Last week I googled “how to fix a leaky sink faucet” and was rewarded with several easy to follow instructional Web sites. It would be a simple job. I merely had to remove the cylinder inside the faucet casing, take it to a plumbing supply shop to buy a similar unit, and return home to install it. 

I fathomed they knew what they were describing because their first step said to turn the water off at the shutoff valve under the sink. Seems like a no-brainer, but early in my home-owning career I tried to fix a leaking toilet with a repair kit Gilda bought in a local hardware store. The step-by-step instructions left out the all-important shut-the-water-off step, so it should not surprise you that I uncorked a gusher when I removed the plunger from the toilet valve.  

Water turned off this time, I took the decorative cap off the top of the faucet lever. I removed the exposed screw holding down the casing but could not budge it. As I didn’t want to break the casing, I reassembled the faucet and waited for the plumber to come later that day to install a basement hose hook-up for Gilda’s indoor winter  garden (FYI, she loves the new hose). He assured me the sink repair was an easy one to do, that I just had to more vigorously jiggle off the casing. 

So Monday I amassed the tools as per the Internet. Confident I wouldn’t break the casing I yanked it hard and off it came, exposing the top of the cylinder I needed to extract and replace. Only it wouldn’t cooperate. Indeed, by the time I decided to throw in the towel, I had chipped off part of the top, the part that keeps the lever from arcing too far. In other words, if the lever wasn’t lined up exactly, water would run. I called the plumber.

He came the next day (in itself, a small victory). Quickly it became apparent that my collection of all the tools necessary for the job had been insufficient. After being frustrated with tools similar to mine, Rick produced wrenches and outsized pliers only the most dedicated DIYer would have hanging from his pegboard. It reminded me of the time I tried to change the hoses for the washing machine shortly after we moved into our current home. I could not get them to budge. Neither could Jody the Plumber, for that matter. He had to use a blow torch to release them. Trust me, no normal Jewish homeowner possesses a blow torch!

Rick the Plumber finally extracted the cylinder and after returning from the supply store installed a new one. We’ve since been drip free, and $144 lighter.

The moral of the story for me: If you think you can do it, don’t! If you see a video or Web site that tells you you can do it, don’t believe it! If it tells you all you need are x,y,z tools, don’t be fooled, you’ll need a,b,c tools, as well! 

My bottom line is, I truly am handy—I write good checks. None of them ever bounce!

Water, Water Everywhere

Never much of a handyman around the house—like most Jewish men I know, my handiwork encompasses writing checks that don’t bounce—I’ve been honing my DIY (do-it-yourself) skills of late. Today, for example, using my jig saw and new cordless drill, I built a slanted foot stand on which to stretch my Achilles tendons. Total cost: $14.07. Not bad, considering that physical therapy over the last month has cost almost $300 per session! I also power-sprayed part of our slate patio. Amazing how much dirt can accumulate over 25 years!!!

Today’s successes notwithstanding, I’m in no rush to proclaim myself the next incarnation of Bob Vila. Back in September 1978, I learned the hard way to be humble when it comes to home repairs.

We had just moved into our first house, a 1932 three bedroom Tudor. Gilda was eight months pregnant with Dan. One Sunday evening, while she painted and wallpapered his bedroom (oh, stop rolling your eyes and shaking your head at the thought of her standing on a ladder. We wanted the job done right, after all), I occupied myself with more ground level tasks. I changed the cylinder on the garage door. I fixed the door on the washing machine. I was on a roll. It was now time to tackle the leaky flush ball in the basement toilet. Gilda had bought a repair kit. I simply had to follow the instructions.

I took the top off the tank. I removed the faulty plug from the valve assembly and immediately set off a gusher of cold water. It splashed off the ceiling, drenched me and would not stop. I screamed for Gilda. From two flights above she heard me, raced downstairs and feared she would become a widow from all the water bouncing off the light fixture above me. You idiot, she basically said. Why didn’t you shut the water off? I countered that I followed every instruction provided by the kit she bought. Nowhere, nowhere, did it say, SHUT THE WATER OFF BEFORE YOU START, DUMMY!!!

OK, all I had to do was shut the water off. Modern toilets generally have a shut-off valve below the tank. Did I mention that this house was built in 1932? Back then, at least for this toilet, the plumber didn’t think an exterior shut-off valve was necessary. I tried stuffing towels into the open valve to stem the flow, but like BP and the rest of the world are finding out, it’s not that easy stopping a liquid under pressure that wants to escape. Water was already several inches deep in the bathroom. The only consolation was we already were in the basement and no damage could be done to our living quarters.

We were about to call an emergency plumber when we remembered that during the recent inspection prior to purchasing our home, the inspector pointed out the main water pipe. Now if we could only remember where he said it was. It took several more wet minutes but we located it and managed to turn the water off. I re-inserted the plug, turned the water back on and asked Gilda to call a plumber Monday morning.

Jodie showed up the next day, cheerfully telling Gilda these old toilets are tricky, that if you’re not careful you could easily crack a pipe, which he promptly did. By the time he finished we were hundreds of dollars poorer, but richer in that we had a whole new toilet assembly, with an exterior shut-off valve.