When I was growing up, I noticed that Santa made two different kinds of deliveries; pre-assembled and some assembly required. My house got the latter kind. (When Santa is a single parent with four kids it only makes sense.) On Christmas morning I never felt like I got the raw end of the deal. Quite to the contrary, I loved puttering around with things; mixing and matching neighborhood bike parts to create a ?super bike?, rearranging the insides of transistor radios and walkie-talkies or building stuff out of wood, metal and miscellaneous spare parts. (One of my favorite summers entailed my neighbor and I trying to create the ultimate portable, wood-burning cooker for our afternoon hikes. Hey, anyone can eat a soggy ol? sandwich on a mountaintop, but how many kids make bacon and eggs or heat up some soup? But I digress.) So anyway, by Christmas afternoon I thought I was in heaven if I happened to receive a gift that also required assembly.

The sentiment has stayed with me. (And fortunately for me, I live in a very ?some assembly required?, pre-fab world.) I still look forward to the challenge and fun of assembling stuff, from the very simple (adding the legs to chairs) to the more complex (the hundreds of pieces that ultimately form a gas grill?that fire/cook thing seems to be a theme here.) Don?t get me wrong; sometimes this stuff can frustrate the bejesus out of me. I?ve been known to cuss like a sailor at inanimate objects and threaten to bitch slap plumbing that doesn?t ?give it up?. But the ultimate reward is still the feeling of accomplishment when the project finally comes together.