Repairing new fan was a breeze
My mother doesn’t like to use the air-conditioning in her home. During these hot, muggy days, instead of switching on the central air, mother instead switches on a fan. One of those pedestal types that is about three feet tall. The fan portion rotates 180 degrees, pushing its mini-jet stream of air in an arc across the room.
Sometimes the fan runs all day long.
Recently, the temperature fell, the air dried out and our climate became more tolerable. When we visited her last Saturday, the fan was silent.
However, it wasn’t too long before I felt warm and decided to turn it on for a little breeze.
Nothing happened when I rotated the switch to the “on” position. The blade moved a little but didn’t spin. “Oh, it does that sometimes,” my 86-year-old mother said matter-of-factly. “I just jiggle it a little.”
That didn’t sound good. When you turn the button, the fan should come on. I thought of all the hazards the faulty device could create, including an electrical fire. I jiggled it a little. I checked to make sure it was plugged in properly. But after a few minutes I decided it would be wiser to get her a new floor fan.
I began unpacking the replacement after a quick trip to a local discount store. There were a lot of different pieces. I don’t like that. I prefer things to come completely or almost completely assembled. I’m not very good at putting things together, even with written and well-illustrated instructions at hand.
In the package, I found a motor attached to a metal rod, a two-piece wire basket that would cover the fan blades, a bunch of little parts, a cloverleaf with holes in each of its four corners attached to another rod and a couple of straight, square metal pieces that would form the base. Oh, yes, I also had a set of disembodied fan blades.
I should have guessed that this wasn’t going to be an easy task when the first thing that fell out of the box was a printed notice bearing a red warning label. It offered a mailing address in case the box might be missing parts.
After about 20 minutes of heavy breathing, perspiration and, finally, much aggravation, I realized there was one very important piece that I couldn’t find. It was the metal rod that connected the motor and the base. My mother would need that fan and I didn’t have two weeks to wait to send for the missing piece.
I also didn’t feel like taking it back to the store to see if I could get the missing part there. Typically male, I looked at the old fan. It seemed to be built the same as the new one. I began taking it apart so I could use the old metal rod to join the pieces of the new device.
It didn’t quite fit.
No problem. A few taps with a hammer and it mated perfectly.
I had to use a couple of other parts from the old fan on the new one but, as long as they worked, I didn’t care what it looked like.
Placing the blade assembly on the fan, I began to install the cap that would hold the blades in place. Several times I attempted to turn the cap onto the threaded rod sticking out of the motor. I just couldn’t get it started. I kept going over in my head the old adage “righty tighty, lefty loosey.” Translated, that means to tighten a nut or screw, you turn it to the right and to loosen it, you turn it to the left.
I turned the cap to the right but it wouldn’t catch the threads.
Something in the back of my mind, some scrap of information I had picked up, made me look at the written instructions again.
I was turning the cap the wrong way. It had to be installed counter to the direction the blades spin. Otherwise, the cap could come off allowing the blades to spin off the motor.
Finally, I had it all assembled. I plugged it in and turned it on. Yes, it worked.
In triumph, I spent the next half hour relaxing in front of its mechanically created breeze to cool off. That success was bittersweet because all I could think of was a line from a Shakespeare play, “Once more into the breach,” meaning again I had exhausted myself and felt foolish that my handyman skills are so scant that I can’t easily assemble an electric fan.
I think the linkage between my brain and my hands is broken.
Why?
I should have just turned on the air-conditioning.
Have a good day.
James Pletcher Jr. is Herald-Standard business editor. He can be reached at 724-439-7571 or by e-mail at jpletcher@heraldstandard.com
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