I was the boy who found it difficult to join together two pieces of Meccano.
When I was in my late teens, I attempted to plaster a wall.
But, once completed, it slipped into late pregnancy.
Young men of my generation knew how to fix cars when they
broke down (as they often did), whereas it seemed to me that, if the engine
needed to be revealed, it was time to bring in a specialist (or buy a new car).
In my ‘A’ level zoology exam, I destroyed utterly the dead frog whose vascular system I was asked to reveal.
It became clear to me that, in adulthood, I should not even attempt
these things. Either I would need to earn enough to pay for people with real
and appropriate talents to do them, or they would not get done.
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