Tired of sitting still on repair job

Some things just can't wait.

 I struggle to write about Royal Enfield motorcycles but, face it, every so often (too often) the toilet needs fixing. 

And there goes a day of either riding, or maintaining my Royal Enfield Bullet. 

The one nice thing about fixing plumbing is that, if something goes wrong (it always does), it's just water pooling around your shoes, not gasoline. 

Parts are easy to find, too, because every home supply store has a selection of "Universal" one-size-fits-all toilet parts. Several different brands of them, in fact. 

Why?

If each of the choices is "Universal," why does the store need to stock more than one variety? Suspicion grows that, while my choice (always the cheapest) may fit every other toilet, it will not fit mine.

I remember, from previous episodes, that toilets feature a left-hand thread somewhere in their mechanisms. I just can't remember where. And, so, the first realization I have, as I struggle to loosen the old, worn out parts, is that I am going to have to read the instructions.

Memory alone is likely to betray me but, of course, I take that chance anyway and get to work.

Eventually, after struggling, and twisting and cursing for awhile, I do resort to the instructions. They're a bit vague on what I want to know (the people who write them are apparently under orders never to elaborate). But, after trying everything twice, both ways, and wiping up water from the floor a time or two, the old bits are out.

At this point, just out of curiosity, I typically fall victim to trying to figure out why the old parts failed. The autopsy nearly always discovers that, had I just read the instructions (saved from the last time I replaced these parts), I would have noticed the "Troubleshooting" section.

Indeed, here I find, now deep into the project, that it could have been fixed if I had simply grasped the right point of the mechanism with my left hand and twisted with the right.

I could have accessed the part causing the mechanism to jam. I could then have cleared the jam and reassembled the part.

But, never mind. Old or new, the bits have to go back together, so I naturally decide to use the brand new ones.

And it's here that I realize that, although, yes, I did go to the store and buy the "Universal" kit, I did not also buy the other parts required.

For instance, the tiny ring of metal to attach the flapper valve chain to the handle arm is not included in the "Universal" operating arm kit I bought. The little ring would have come with a new flapper valve, had I thought to purchase that.

And, so, I would have to use the tiny ring from the old parts I removed. No problem!

It's here that I discover that the old ring has dropped off the old arm somewhere between the toilet and throwing the old parts out into the garage. Neither I nor my wife, pressed into duty, can locate it by crawling around the floor.

And it's at this point that I realize that, although the toilet will be flushed with all new parts from here on in, the missing link in the mechanism -- that small ring -- will be replaced by the one truly universal part in life: a paper clip.

Paper clips hold much of my house together. Should it someday be knocked down by a hurricane, rescuers will comment that the paper clips must have failed.

And they will fail, for this terrible reason: paper clips used inside a toilet tank, or anywhere else except to clip paper, rust.

Using one in this instance will guarantee toilet failure someday, certainly right after someone has used the toilet in anger and really, really needs to flush.

I confess this left me a bit gleeful, as there is less than a 50-50 chance that that person will be me. (And only I will know what went wrong and where to put a new paperclip.)

So, now, finally, the toilet flushes, although perhaps not with the vigor and precise action that is preferred in the best homes.

Probably it could be adjusted? But not by me.

Because, during the protracted experience (hours long) I have sort of lost the plot. What was I trying to accomplish? Is it fixed? Or am I now just willing to live with whatever was the problem, just to get this over with?

I don't care.