The Unmuddled Mathematician

Some Assembly Required

By Chris Coray, The Unmuddled Mathematician

Containers often come with labels.  It used to be the case that bottles containing dangerous substances, like poisons for potguts, had a skull and crossbones warning on the outside.  Nuclear material has a clear and descriptive logo.   These symbols help in handling and storage.  These warnings, however, pale compared to the apparently undramatic wording that shows up on many otherwise unmarked boxes.  Beware, beware, beware any package that contains in small letters “Made in China” and in somewhat larger print the phrase “Some Assembly Required”. 

Many, many years ago a neighbor of mine had to be travelling at Christmas.  His wife asked a friend of mine and me if we might be able to come over late on Christmas Eve and put together a few toys.  This family had a lot of kids.  But sure, late on December 24, after all the children were asleep my friend Don and I gently knocked on the door and were admitted to assist in assembly.  Let’s say it was after 10 p.m. (it was).  Just about 3 a.m. we finished the tasks, having assembled more objects than I can count.  We saw Santa on his return flight.  It’s a good thing that we both own a lot of tools and that there were two of us.  Remembering our efforts with the instructions accompanying the toys, instructions that were converted from Chinese to English, I am still looking to organize and have a giant bonfire of “Big Wheels”.   I used the word converted because the instructions, if accurate, were most definitely not “translated into English”.   China is killing this country by sending us object after object that require “Some Assembly”.   There are a couple of points to be made at this time.  First, the instructions are always more ambiguous and less understandable than the hardest math I ever studied.  Second, if the object is eventually and finally assembled in say, ten hours, a second one could be done in about 30 minutes.  The converted instructions are almost worse than no instructions at all.  Part of the Chinese plot.  It’s the first time through the experience that is nearly fatal.  But as most of us do this kind of assembly only once, huge chunks of time are consumed by the first time effort.  Our lives are shortened.

It should be noted that sometimes a “tool” is contained in the box.  It is always complete junk and should be reduced to pot metal and molded into a fishing lure as soon as possible.  No self respecting fish would have anything to do with it, but I feel better trying to drown this inanimate, remolded “tool”.

A very recent experience may serve as a specific example of this pandemic.  Every piece of the following story is precisely true.  It began innocently enough, with my dear wife deciding a couple of months ago that my computer desk was of a color that did not match the other furniture in our shared office.  Sunlight and other factors had made it a little lighter in color.  Did this matter to me?  No.  Did my feelings, if I had any, matter?  Likewise, no.  She ordered a new computer desk of the “proper” color.  I had a bad feeling about this but a man has to do what a man has to do (just ask his wife).  Eventually the phone rang and some guy said he had a couple of boxes down by the gas station and he didn’t want to drive up the hill to our house.  Would I please come and get them?  OK.  When I got to the coward’s driver’s truck we off loaded two boxes into my pickup.  The ultimate warning words referred to above were clearly present.  So were some others, as in weight, 60 and 50.  It turns out that these numbers were in kilograms, not pounds, so the weights were 132 and 110 lbs, respectively.  The boxes were also marked with the words “Heavy” and “Use two men to lift”.  Right.  

When I got to the house I keenly observed that there were not two men present and I am not about to harm my wife’s surgically repaired back.  Somehow I muscled the boxes into the house.

Using a week to build up my courage (if I were a drinking man I might have gone that route) I eventually opened the boxes.  In one was a 24 page set of instructions.  Also present was a large bag of parts.  The main wood pieces were also contained but it was the parts bag that was terrifying.  There was a main bag which itself contained 17 (exactly) smaller bags.  The instructions indicated that each smaller bag was clearly marked with a sticker using letters in the alphabet.  However, the sticky stuff was not worth spit so all the stickers had fallen off and were in the bottom of the big bag like Scrabble letters.  I could not find a dose of arsenic to take on the spot so I just left everything alone for a few more days.  Maybe it would all disappear like the monster in a nightmare.  It didn’t.  Surrendering to the inevitable I got out my 18 volt cordless drill/screwdriver, my large rubber hammer, 3 hand screwdrivers, an array of bits, and set to work.  Two steps forward, one back.  

Limiting myself to 6 hours per day I eventually got this object assembled in 3 days, with only 12 parts left over.  Two friends (I hope they are still friends) finally helped me move the old desk out and the new one into place.  With nearly euphoric joy I gathered up all the boxes, foam, empty bags, instructions, and with malice carried them to a dumpster.  For the record, there are 228 individual pieces in this desk.  Please stop by and check it out.  Do not listen to my wife if she says this was easy and anyone could and should go the same route.

 

And always be afraid, very afraid, of the phrase “Some Assembly Required”.  What follows those words is the phrase, in disappearing ink, “With any luck this will kill you”.