This week in Sunday Life I use my hands (which, admittedly, when coupled with this picture below, reads a little wrong!)
As kids, my brothers and I had a ritual. In the school holidays we’d sit on the back step with an ice cream bucket full of kero, a few rags and an old toothbrush and clean our bikes. We’d pull apart the hub and crank set and clean out our BMXs and mountain bikes right down to the ball bearings. Crud. There is little more satisfying than sitting in the sun picking crud from a rear cluster, I tell you.
When done we’d go for a test ride. Oh, the smoothness! It was joy on two wheels. We’d revel in our handiwork for days. Poor Mum. She must’ve turned inside out with the tedium of our post-mortem gloating.
Nowadays I get a similar kick from making my own mung bean sprouts. The soaking and sprouting takes three days. I become a helicopter parent, fussing over the sweet little things, perfecting technique, trying new approaches. Sometimes I just stare at them as they sleep. When done I’m so damn proud and, can I tell you, they taste unfathomably better than the packaged versions. I tell everyone. I post the results on Twitter. Look what I made! (Don’t get me started on my recent fire lighting efforts.)
Since no experience these days is left unphenomenon-ised I wasn’t surprised to learn this week my crud-scraping and bean-sprouting passion has a name. Harvard Business Review has dubbed the phenomena The IKEA Effect.