Our parents were right
Something must be wrong with me. Its been a busy week, and Ive been on the computer all day, every day. So today I just felt like getting out of…
Something must be wrong with me.
Its been a busy week, and Ive been on the computer all day, every day. So today I just felt like getting out of the house. I would have liked to do a short hike, but its still freezing here, plus any trail likely not to have snow on it would be a sea of mud. Yeah, I suppose I could go walk back and forth from one end of the mall to the other, but Im too old to do that like the teenagers do (plus, I cant walk and talk on a cell phone at the same time), and Im too young to dodge the old people who consider the mall to be their personal track.
So I figured Id head to the bank, do some grocery shopping, get a couple bags of salt for the water softener and as a final treat for all this errand running, go to one of my local big-box home improvement stores and buy myself a toy or two for the shop.
With bank slips in my pocket, groceries in the trunk and two bags of salt on the back seat, I head to the nearest big-box store. I didnt even care if it was the blue one or the orange one. I parked. I went inside. I shopped. Then shopped some more.
An hour later I was back in my car, sitting there empty-handed. I cant believe it. There was nothing I wanted. There was nothing I needed. There wasnt even anything I could pretend I needed just to get my shop-related shopping fix. I just didnt want any more, and I was pushing my figurative woodworking plate away.
This has never happened to me before. Is my woodworking life over? Do I truly own every tool I need? Is my shop really complete? Do I finally have enough clamps?
And as I think of my apparently well-stocked shop, imagining that I must indeed have so much stuff, so many tools, and so complete a wood rack that I can refuse having more on my plate, I remember what my parents always told me when I was a kid: Dont turn your nose up at that 60-grit sandpaper in front of you young man! Somewhere in China there are children who have no sandpaper, no tools, no plywood and no #6 x 1-1/4 coarse-thread screws!
And so now, as then, I did my duty. Knowing that the children of China were depending on me, I sat up straight in my seat, got out of the car, and went in and bought an extra helping of clamps.
Till next time,
A.J.

A.J. Hamler is the former editor of Woodshop News and Woodcraft Magazine. He's currently a freelance woodworking writer/editor, which is another way of stating self-employed. When he's not writing or in the shop, he enjoys science fiction, gourmet cooking and Civil War reenacting, but not at the same time.