It's not always easy, that you know. Stay positive, sure—easy enough when everything is smooth sailing.

My latest project has been restoring a 1960's electric fan. It started out pea green—a color that even your Grandmother would disapprove of. I decided to strip it, the way I like to—by sanding. I prefer to leave the chemical cancer out of the mix and stick to some good 'ol fashioned elbow grease.

This fan has been sitting on my to do list for three months now, awaiting the right tool to help me pry off the cage protecting the blades. I tried the small selection of wrenches I had back in October, coming up short. The odd shaped nuts would not budge.  So I let it sit until my Dad bought me my own giant ratchet and wrench set for Christmas.


The project did not get easier.  I managed to disassemble the fan and open er up.  I burnished all of the base, blades and polished the cage. She was lookin beautiful.  I did the sautering and put on a new cord, and was ready to seal er back up.  Then upon the advice of my dad, I bought some motor oil and squirted some on the inside components.  Well, I wasn't exactly sure where it should go, and the wire coils got drenched with it.  I didn't think much of it until I screwed on the bottom plate and decided to plug her in. 

POP, smoke, fizz, ok, no fizzing, but a loud pop and lots of smoke. Ughhh, I wasn't wearing my mask, and I didn't' have a fire extinguisher.  I yanked out the plug and waited till the smoking subsided before unscrewing and carefully prying off the base plate.  The culprit was the motor oil. The problem was me.  I should not have put any there.  Back to the advice of my dad, I bought alcohol and a dropper and doused the exposed areas with alcohol to get rid of the oil.  Or at least attempt to.  I proceeded for a week of filling the dropper and squirting it on, then filling it again and so on.  With hope in my heart and still no fire extinguisher, I decided to have another go and put the plug in.  Nothing.  I had officially killed it. 

******

Almost a year later, I find myself in Florida, with the fan in tow.  I carted it with me on this journey and there it sat in the garage, my workshop.  My parents happened to be visiting and I showed off a successful fan refinishing and rewiring that I'd just completed...and there sat the shell of this sad fan I started so long ago.  My dad thought it a good idea to take it home and see if he could get it working.  So off it went.  This forgotten fan with no cage and not many prospects. I left the cage (covers the blades of the fan) in New York.  So even if it gets working, she will not be complete. So another journey for her, and a good lesson learned for me.  Don't mess with wiring if you don't know what you're doing.  I've gotten better since then!


A picture of the more recent fan I refinished and rewired correctly.