Consider this the first (but
definitely not the last) woodworking post you will find here. For those who don’t know I have been a
woodworker for a number of years. One of
my first projects was a new bed when I was in high school. It was utter
crap. My rather simplistic use of
carriage bolts and angle brackets made my woodworking abilities the envy of no
one. Still, the bed was pretty sturdy
and served its purpose until I'll moved off to college. My second project was an oak futon built out
of rough sawn lumber salvaged from my grandmother's garage. I learned a lot of lessons on that
project. First and foremost, I learned
you cannot use a belt sander to finish rough stock without it coming out like
crap. While this seems obvious now, to a 19 year old kid on a dimestore budget
working with free wood and a borrowed belt sander it's greatest thing since
sliced bread. After lots of
sanding, cutting, chopping, dozens of
sheet rock screws ( I still cringe at the thought), and several thick coats of
varnish I had myself a bed.
Unfortunately it was strong in all the places it didn't need to be and
weak in all the areas that needed to be strong.
The thing was a behemoth in terms of weight, causing it to spend the
better part of its lifetime with a stack of books stacked under one corner to replace
a leg that had broken off. As if this oak built behemoth wasn't heavy enough, I
made the mistake of using MDF plywood instead of regular plywood for the
platform (the plans did not call for slats).
It was so heavy that it needed to be fully disassembled before it could
be moved. Yes, I was glutton for
punishment in my youth. Needless to say
my skills have improved greatly over the years, mostly due to a larger budget
for tools and more readily
accessible information and books.
Woodworking has become a large part
of my life. Before I left for Iraq I built all new furniture for my
wife for our apartment. Cherry coffee table, cherry end table, and two cherry nightstands, all with granite tops (on
sale as remnants), a knock-down, queen sized bed of maple, ash, and hickory, a 7' tall bookcase made of butternut, maple, cherry, and birch, two wall-leaning desks made of mahogany,
teak, and paduk with ebony and paduk inlays, and an oak 1920s dresser with
dovetailed curved front drawers that I refurbished into a desk would all grace
our apartment's interior. I did not want her to worry about buying anything after I left.
And frankly, the vast majority of the "furniture" (I'm using
that term loosely here) bought in stores nowadays is absolute crap
befitting of our throwaway society.
As you can imagine, losing my right
arm in Iraq was a huge blow to my woodworking hobby.
Fortunately my therapists at Walter Reed Army Medical Center understood my passion for woodworking
and worked in a "graduation requirement" that involved woodworking at
the base wood shop. It was a simple
project: create a couple square plywood boxes to set dimensions that could be
used in the "GATE Lab" (whatever that is, I think it has something to
do with calibrating lower extremity prosthetics). They were not pretty, but they worked and taught me a few things about woodworking one-handed. First, everything is more difficult
now. Since my one remaining hand is
always the tool hand, that leaves my hook to do the holding. Try using a tape measure on handed, or pounding a nail. Try using a drill to start a drywall screw
using only one hand. It's next to
impossible. Pressing down on a
piece of wood with my hook is the equivalent of trying to hold it down with a
pinky finger. There is nothing to keep
it from pivoting or simply sliding away.
Sometimes I can use my knee to hold things down. (Maybe I should take some tips from the
Japanese and start using my feet. Ideas anyone?) Everything needs to be clamped down now, no
exceptions.
I also learned that you can get dangerously close to a spinning saw
blade when you don't have fingers to worry about. So close in fact, that my stainless-steel
hook decided to have a competition with my father's tablesaw blade to see which one
was more durable. Needless to say, my
stainless-steel hook won, the blade was destroyed, and my father received two
new saw blades for Christmas that year. So I haven't quit woodworking by any means, but the entire affair has become much more
difficult and takes much longer to accomplish.
Anyway, on to the reasons for this
post. One of my woodworking heros has
decided to hang up his apron. Norm Abram
of The New Yankee Workshop is closing up shop.
From Woodworking Magazine's Blog:
After 21 seasons, "The New Yankee Workshop" is closing its
doors, and its much-beloved host, Norm Abram, is going to focus on his personal
projects and PBS's "This Old House," according to Russ Morash,
executive producer and director of "The New Yankee Workshop."
"Norm has done this for 20 years, and he thought it time to step
back and do a little less," Morash said in a phone interview. "And
because the show was so tied to him, we didn't want to replace him."
I was involved in woodworking long before I
started watching Norm, but he still taught me a few things. Having worked as a carpenter myself, I can
attest that the use of a brad nailer here and there makes the job go a lot
faster if you’re in a hurry and don’t mind putty holes. I have since given up
such shortcuts on my furniture (go ahead, call me a purist) but I still use
them if appearances are not all that important.
Norm is still planning on doing This Old House so he won't be disappearing
any time soon. Still, he and his show
will definitely be missed. (Fortunately,
you can still buy recordings of the show and project plans on their website.)
This is proving to be a year marked
by loss for woodworkers. Sam Maloof
passed away in March of this year at the age of 93. Sam Maloof is known all around the world for
his beautiful chairs and perfectly sloping curves. A few of his pieces have even made their way
into the White House. I have been in
love with Sam Maloof's work from the moment I first laid eyes on it. In fact, I had a copy of Sam Maloof,
Woodworker that I brought along to Iraq.
I cannot tell you how many times I read it. In September of this year we received word that
another woodworking great, James Krenov, had also passed away. I absolutely love Krenov's work. The lines of his work are simple, yet it's beauty is unparalleled. His work has influenced more than one piece of
furniture I have built. The passing of
these two individuals has left a void in the world of woodworking, but
the beautiful work generated by these individuals will continue to live on for decades to come.
Ultimately, I think that is the goal
for many woodworkers. We attempt to
create practical objects of beauty that will live on long after we are
gone. Every little chip, every little tool
mark, and every little imperfection are signs of the craftsmanship that went into
it. It shows that it was not
mass-produced in a factory halfway around the world. Every piece represents the craftsman who
created it, no matter how nice or crappy it comes out.