In Praise of the Mighty Gorilla

20130914-DSCN3513-2Gorilla Grips, that is.  Specifically Gorilla Grip Grease Monkey gloves.  I paid $5 or $6 a pair at my local employee-owned big box store, but I see that other vendors sometimes try to get $10 for these things.

Some tell me that it is not a manly thing to wrench with gloves.  Well, I happen to dislike grease and dirt on my hands, and, worse yet, have a proclivity for broken and torn fingernails.  And, being a natural born klutz, I have had plenty of bleeding knuckles over my past xx years.  Cheap “mechanic’s”  disposables or even my wife’s household latex versions are annoying to me, particularly in terms of sweat inducement and just plain flimsiness.  Even tried and rejected surgeon’s gloves.

Enter Gorilla Grips.  Comfortable enough to forget about after a couple of minutes.  And they breathe.  Remarkably, they are made of a material (I don’t have any label data at hand to report) that seems to possess almost magical qualities of tactility (is that a word?), grip, even a sort of magnetism.  On today’s project, to be reported later perhaps, I had to virtually stand on my head in virtual darkness to remove two 10mm nuts and washers that were hovering straight down over an even darker black hole somewhere under my rear hatch with almost zero wiggle room.  Everything had to be done by feel, including the trick of not dropping the fershlugginer nuts and washers into the abyss.  Holy cow.  The Gorilla Grips rose to the occasion, actually allowing me to do this one-handed, somehow almost making the experience — pleasant.

Even if you don’t need to preserve your mitts for your day job as a concert pianist or a hand model, run, don’t walk to your nearest Gorilla Grip vendor.   Especially if you are a Klutz Like Me…


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