My Table Saw

April 19, 2017.Reading time 5 minutes.

My blogging friend over at Almost Iowa threw out a “My Stuff” challenge. I don’t typically take on such challenges, but Greg is one of my all-time favorites and I’ve been trying to recruit him to be the northern contingent of 2021 – The Year Without Pants (sponsored by Al Bundy) and figure this is all a part of the process. So here it goes:

My Table Saw

I grew up in the workshop – well, not literally because sleeping on sawdust can lead to copious amounts of morning eye gunk. But my basement room was next door to my dad’s workshop and I became very comfortable with tools at an early age. I also got comfortable with blood. Blood happens when you work with sharp blades. I remember carving something for my sister once and I cut the crap out of my finger in the process. I had planned on leaving the finish natural, but had to stain it a nice cherry red to match my residue.

When I became a man… (okay, writing that made me laugh.)

When I grew up… (that’s no better.)

When my young wife and I bought our first home, one of the prerequisites was a basement. After the ink dried on the contract, I charged down the stairs and chose a room to be my shop. Once I had mentally mapped out the placement of all the equipment I intended to buy, I returned upstairs to carry my waiting wife over the threshold and our new life as homeowners began.

To have a proper workshop, you first need a centerpiece: the table saw. This expenditure became a point of contention for my lovely bride and me. With a new mortgage and a very limited budget – we had separate goals. She wanted a sweet, cuddly baby (or four) to fill a nursery on the second floor, and I wanted a 220 volt, shiny baby to chew wood below ground. This might be the first and only argument I ever won and I did so with the diplomacy of Churchill. “If you want a cradle, I need a table saw.”

And so, I purchased my table saw.

Over the years, we’ve built a lot of furniture together, my table saw and me. That gorgeous hunk of iron has taught me a few things about life, love, and marriage which I’d like to share in no particular order:

Don’t skimp on the important stuff. Worthwhile things come at a cost.
Life is messy – if you aren’t making sawdust, you aren’t making progress.
Patience is imperative. Shortcuts leave sloppy joints that are obvious in the final piece.
Respect sharp metal that spins at 3000 RPM. If you get complacent or careless with things you love, you can get hurt.
Plan every cut. Think through outcomes before you set the fence and blade height because until the wood-stretcher is invented, the cut is permanent.
Don’t skip the maintenance. If you want things to last, you have to tighten, oil, and clean what you’ve got.
You get better at it. Experience has taught me massive amounts about designing and building furniture (and life).
You’ve got to turn her on every now and then.

Yeah, my table saw and me have been through a lot of lumber.

We’ve built a table for an orphanage in Africa

We’ve shared space with Kylie – my only kid who loved being in the shop. Together, the three of us designed and built this dresser – complete with bun feet and a secret compartment

We’ve built some other stuff, too.

I guess you could say, my table saw has had a lot to do with building me.

Whybrows?

March 15, 2017.Reading time 4 minutes.

I’ve got some complaints. First, why on earth would God install a worthless organ that does nothing besides rupture and cause complications? My appendix has yet to burst, but we are all ticking time bombs just waiting for the that day.

Consider this:

735,000 Americans have heart attacks each year.

680,000 Americans have appendicitis annually.

We know the purpose and necessity of the heart. Further, most of those heart attacks are preventable through diet and proper attention. But we can do nothing about our appendix and we don’t need it anyway. What’s up with that?

While we are examining the superfluous, what is the purpose of eyebrows? Seriously? If you look that up, you’ll only get hypothetical channeling of sweat and facial expressions. Facial expressions – seriously? What would we possibly be if we couldn’t furl our brows, knit our brows, or raise an eyebrow?

Just for giggles, watch this little girl discover her eyebrows.

And let’s analyze the other “purpose”. Unless you have a unibrow, what good is it to have them separated – leaving a gaping hole in the middle for sweat to pour through? They are as worthless as a bow-legged goalie.

So, the only actual functional eyebrow is the unibrow – that people pluck, wax, and shave to get rid of because no one wants to get caught with an unsightly unibrow.

When I was a boy, my hair was so blond that my eyebrows were nearly invisible. In fact, I’ve been told that I checked the mirror often for them and wouldn’t believe I had eyebrows at all. My hair has darkened over the years and sometime in my early forties, I was sitting in the barber’s chair when out of the blue, she asked, “Do you want your eyebrow hair trimmed?”

We were friends until the point where she crossed that line. I silently pondered her question, finally deciding that she wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t need them trimmed and I elected to have her do so.

But this caused a stirring of several questions. Why do they grow now? Why does God mock us with ridiculous extra hair as we age? I bought a shaver to take care of God’s little joke from now on. It has a guard so that I won’t cut them too close and most of the time I remember to check it.

Then one day, I discovered a purpose for eyebrows!

As with many scientific discoveries, it happened quite by accident. A check in the mirror showed many crazy hairs and I pulled out the shaver – you guessed it, without the guard. In an instant, my right eyebrow was gone. I stood there looking at myself in disbelief just like when I was a boy.

Once one is gone, you pretty much have to shave the other to even it out.

And there it is!

The purpose of eyebrows is to keep people from looking at you like you are a complete moron. Because when they are gone, people sure do stare.