It is true that I have tried, in vain, to keep a reasonable perspective on this mishap. After all, my family and loved ones are all safe and healthy. There are no real tragedies in our world right now and spring is on its way. Just the same, I am B U M M E D.
The machine is on its way back to the factory for repair. I am hopeful that it will not require much. Just the same, shipping a 50 pound machine half way across the country is nerve wracking.
The hand wheel bent.
As best as I can tell, the machine landed on the hand wheel and then fell backward striking the sheet rock wall with the front handles. There is a nice hole in the wall, just about the size of the left handle switch. You can see the broken switch on the left and that the handles are not even (these photos were taken in the shop. Steven carried it down stairs for me and we put it on the bench)
Steven noticed that it looked like the front hand wheel had been pushed forward some too.
I wasn't convinced because the whole thing still turned so easily. I mean the motion was very smooth. I figure if the shaft had moved, then the thing wouldn't turn.
I had to take the front handles off to ship the machine. I took that opportunity to look inside. (I had been absolutely dying to do this ever since I brought the machine home but never dared to do so). I took the side panel off and examined things. Looks ok to me. But what the devil do I know?
Here is another view of the needle bar area.
The machine is scheduled to arrive in Iowa tomorrow. I called to give them a heads up that it is on its way. I will definitely feel better when I learn what the damage will cost. Still, it's only money.
My Wilson, on the other hand, is lame again. Or something. But he got off the couch tonight to get some turkey. So that's a good sign. He came to greet me when I arrived home from work, but did not stand by the window this morning when I left. Sure wish he could talk. Which reminds me.
There once was this traveling salesman who drove by a house out in the country. He saw a sign out front: TALKING DOG FOR SALE. TEN BUCKS. He stopped and asked of the geezer smoking his pipe on the front porch.
"Do you really have a talking dog?"
May I see him?"
"YUP. He's out back. Help yourself."
So the TS went out back and sure enough, there lying in the sun was a nondescript, black mutt of a dog.
"Can you talk?"
"Yes, yes I can." replied the dog.
"Oh WOW. How amazing."
"Yes, when it was discovered that I had this skill I was employed as a tactical agent for the FBI. I could listen unobserved and report on the most notorious criminals. I must have helped arrest hundreds of crooks. Then, I got too bored with that line of work so I became a spy and worked for the CIA. I absolutely was instrumental in thwarting many terrorist attacks and saved countless lives. But I tired of all the thrill and drama and retired here, years ago. Now I while away my days lying in the sun, chewing on bones and chasing squirrels."
"Wait, just a minute, stay right here." said the TS and he rushed out front to where the old man was still smoking his pipe.
"I'll buy him. But why only ten dollars for that amazing dog?"
"Well, he may be able to talk but everything he told you just now is just a down right lie."