Turbo 2500, I mean, our blender...

Ever since I was young my dad has fixed everything for me—well everything that can be fixed with a hammer, duct tape, or a screw driver. I live in a home that has never had to see a leaky faucet or a squeaky door, because with my dad in the house those things don’t exist.
The down side to living with such a handy man is that even when there is nothing to be handy with he seeks to build, fix, restore, and…err…invent things.
It was Easter Sunday and I was seated on the blue cushions on our squashy couch. We were just relaxing before heading over to my grandparent’s house for Easter dinner, and my mom and I were half chatting, half watching the TV when all of this sudden I hear this violent blare; one that closely resembled the sound a dying lawnmower would make—when amplified. Before even having to ask I knew it was my dad who was producing this menacing noise.
Turns out my dad was in the process of finalizing his newly created invention. Roughly one hundred dollars, and eight weeks later, my dad had created it—a blender that does not require electricity. The “little turbo” is solely powered by a lawn mower engine, which would explain the noise.
The question that was pressing me was why would one need a blender that doesn’t require electricity? I mean unless one is planning to bust this piece out during their morning commute or in the middle of the movie theatre (well, I suppose the sound would create problems,) but regardless, why?
According to my father the device is needed for blending drinks and such on camping trips and related endeavors. I think he is referring to the one camping trip we take every year in a cabin, a cabin that has full electricity that is. When refuting this to my father he answered with a concerned look on his face, “what if the power goes out and I want a milkshake?”
Needless to say, currently stationed in our garage, next to the treadmill and the Dodge 2500, is the blender. And to make matters more humorous, my equal of a handy man grandfather has spent the bulk of the past two days building the blender a carrying case.
So to say the men in my family are handy men, to say they are “Mr. Fix Its,” and the expression, “dad can fix it,” are all understatements. But hey, that’s the men of my family, and to be honest, in this I find comfort, character, and even a sense of pride---and yes, I would not want these men any other way, even if it does mean that we are the only family on the block with a lawnmower engine powering our blender.