I guess I'm just sloppy, but I don't worry to much about getting evil, metal contaminated oil on my fingers. I probably have cancer by now, been changing oil since I was 7.
Yeah, I was a sloppy mechanic in a previous life (20 years ago). Then I did two spring tours of backcountry Mexico in a topless 1969 Nissan Patrol 4x4. I had the misfortune of three flat tires during those two trips but they turned into fortune just for the experience of watching 2 different local tire specialists. Both were middle aged men who did the work outside right next to miniature garages which were actually just small tool sheds attached to the side of their tiny houses. There was just enough room in the garages for one person to use a small bench with a vice.
My Patrol had old school split rims which the Mexican tire guys were intimately familiar with. I would unbolt the flat from the spare tire mount on the back of the Patrol and show the local rural tire specialist where the thorn was. The rural tire specialists I met in two different states both wore clean jeans and very nicely tailored long-sleeved white western style dress shirts. Spotless. Gleaming white. Both had a slightly used rag tucked in the back pocket of their jeans. Both seemed interested in the immediate problem and had an air of honest expertise. Both looked at the puncture for a moment, pointed out that it was a split-rim and quoted me a price in pesos (about $4-$5). I nodded my consent and both times they rolled it to a flat spot of dusty gravel a few feet from their permanently open tool sheds attached to their tiny houses. They both pulled a small tool from their front pockets and unscrewed the valve stem. Then they both selected one of their larger long handled sledges and a medium tire pry bar. They both stood on one edge of the flat tire and with a quick flurry of about 15 expertly guided hard blows in quick succession while simultaneously rotating around the perimeter of the tire they were standing on, they had broken the bead and freed the split ring. From there it was a simple matter to pry the tire off and patch the hole. Re-mounting was even easier and just as quick. Then, while standing behind the upright tires, they would fill the tire to about 50 lbs. using conveniently mounted air hoses and present the finished product with a calm smile that showed the pride and confidence they had in their work. I was amazed.
Both times the entire process took only 10-12 minutes. After every sub-operation they would tug the rag out of their back pockets and wipe their hands of with a quick but relaxed flurry of motion before tucking the rag back in their pockets. Although it was warm and sunny both times, neither one ever showed a bead of sweat. And their white western dress shirts did not get so much as a smudge on them and their hands, when finished, were almost as clean as before they started.
Ever since then I wondered how I could do inherently dirty jobs in a more clean manner. By becoming more aware of the motions required to complete any job in a satisfactory manner, I've found I can do the job using less time, less energy and stay cleaner at the same time. I will never perfect it to the degree of the two tire masters that inspired my quest but it is still rewarding to aspire to do it easier, more efficiently and to stay cleaner while doing it.
Personal satisfaction is the best reason to stay clean and efficient while you work. Of course avoiding the extra risk of cancer from used motor oil is not a bad result either.
