A buddy of mine in Baton Rouge told me a story about his son, Nathan. When Nathan was six, his folks gave him a Fisher-Price cassette recorder. One day his dad, Norman, came home from work, and fell onto the couch, exhausted. Nathan came toddling in and said “Daddy…you know that tape recorder sure has a lot of parts,” turned, and toddled back out.
It’s the look of dawning comprehension that kills me, every time I think of this.
Norman shot upright, and raced to Nathan’s room to find the tape deck reduced to its constituent parts, scattered across the floor.
“So… you took apart your tape recorder, huh?”
“Yes sir.”
“That’s nice. Sure hope you remember how to put it all back together.”
Nathan then experienced that same look of dawning comprehension, once he realized he had no clue how to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. A while later, the family was in the car, on a trip. Norman said, “Nathan…how ’bout you play us a tune on your tape recorder.”
“Shut up, Daddy.”
I think of that story when I wonder what it would be like to completely disassemble my 1911. Not just field strip it to clean it, but take every last piece apart. And I realize that, if I don’t want to end up like Nathan and his Fisher-Price tape deck, I’d best leave well enough alone. So I offer you this killer animation, courtesy of www.sterlingroth.com, of a bunch of parts that automagically become a 1911. Enjoy.