Disposable, Renewable or Enduring?

I was raised in a very thrifty environment, a direct result of my parents working hard to hang onto the lowest rung of the middle class ladder.  I remember my great uncle telling stories about earning 10 cents an hour polishing beans for the local grocer.  I was amazed.  "Polishing beans?" I asked.

"Yes, and I was glad for the job at that time.  Beans would sell for a few cents more if they were shiny, so I would take some wax and dip my hands in the beans and work them until they were clean and shiny."

This man was the same man who never had more than 20 dollars at a time in his pocket all the years I knew him.  I suspect it was the same 20 dollar bill as I never saw him buy anything.  "Everything you need is already at the local dump.  And it's free for the taking."  It turns out that when he died, we discovered he had substantial savings accounts in dozens of banks across the country, so that wherever he visited he had some reserves, if needed.

That durable and practical generation which lived through the Great Depression is now just a faint memory.  What the world experienced in the past decade was shocking but nothing compared to the 1930's.

I have spent my life restoring historic furniture, saving it from the trash heap of time.  I have a deep respect for those who had the knowledge to select the proper tree, and be able to transform it into a beautiful and practical object using only wind, water and human power.  We could learn a great deal of important information if we would just take the time to analyze those objects and understand the process which produced them.

Antiques represent a culture which is enduring and still important for us to appreciate even centuries later.  Of course, not everything was wonderful.  There was disease, poverty, poor sanitation, uneven distribution of wealth, war and conflict.  As I list these problems, I realize that they are still part of our society today.  I guess we haven't evolved as much as I thought.

I ask myself, "What will my generation leave for the future?"  The answer is not pretty.

When I was born the United States had just dropped the atomic bomb on Japan.   I am the child of the first nuclear age, and, like others who came of age during this time, I was fascinated with the prospect of understanding the atom.  So much so that I built an electron accelerator ("atom smasher") in High School and took several awards at the Science Fair, going on to work at Brookhaven Labs and getting a degree in Applied Physics at UCSD.

I know a few things about the atom, I guess.  Enough so that I decided to walk away from my chosen career over 40 years ago when I realized that science could not solve the nuclear waste problem.  Science can create radioactivity but cannot find a way to keep it out of the environment.  Talk about an enduring legacy:  It is a fact that human generated radioactive waste will be polluting the earth thousands of years after the pyramids have fallen into desert dust.  That is what my generation will be remembered for...

At the same time, we live in a disposable society which has no concern at all about making and selling computers and phones with toxic materials, at great expense, only to make them obsolete after a few years of use.  Make, Consume, Discard.  How much longer can we sustain this business model?

It seems logical for corporations to find workers on the other side of the planet who will work for less and make something a few cents cheaper than someone else.  However, what is the real carbon footprint of that object by the time it reaches the consumer?  Take IKEA furniture, for example.  Much of the material used in IKEA furniture is manufactured using toxic chemicals and synthetic materials.  Then it is transported a great distance in shipping containers which are disposed of by the consumer in a landfill.  It is "cost effective" and serves its purpose but lasts only a few years before it falls apart and is replaced by a similar, but cheaper item.

Compare that with a piece of antique furniture.  The tree was either locally harvested by hand or transported by ship using wind power.  The wood was processed by water driven saws and shaped by human talent.  It was transported overland with water or horse power, and later by steam.  It was only when steam was created by burning coal that it started to produce a carbon footprint.

That same piece of antique furniture produced subsequent jobs for workers who repaired, polished, upholstered and restored it from generation to generation.  It created memories and connections to the people who used it, strengthening family history and direct connections to the land.  It provided comfort and a sense of culture as times changed, providing a constant reference point in a world of flux.

In simple words, it was a renewable source of material culture, and will continue to function in that important capacity as long as we respect its integrity and original purpose.  That is why I have devoted my talents to restoring antique furniture.  It gives me a great deal of pleasure knowing I have saved something from the past and that it will continue to exist long into the future.

Time Is The Only Real Commodity

Clock #7 (Left) and Clock #6 (Right) 

This past month I have not posted, as you may have noticed.  Business has returned to pre 2008 levels and I have been occupied with a lot of interesting work, arriving and departing.  Since the antiques market has hit rock bottom, I have noticed a renewed interest in clients finding and restoring old furniture.

At the same time I have been celebrating the completion of 47 years working at the bench, restoring wonderful high quality antiques.  Since I work every day of the week, every week of the year and only take time off to travel I calculate that I have been standing at that bench working with traditional hand tools and exotic materials for something like 16,000 work days.

I have been fortunate to have been healthy almost the entire time, and I have even come to work when I was sick, since I am a little obsessive/compulsive about my routine.  With any luck I still have about 10,000 more days left in this body to be able to finish all the projects I have started for myself and which wait patiently in the back of the shop.

As Hector Berlioz noted: "Le temps est un grand maitre, dit-on: le malheur est qu'il soit un maitre inhuman qui tue ses élèves."  Loosely translated: Time is a great teacher, we say: unfortunately it is not human and kills its students.

As a devote historian and builder of clocks, I have been a student of time all my life.  I know how it ends.

Speaking of clocks, I have finally started building two clocks, which have been on my "to do" list for a year.  These will be my 6th and 7th examples, and all the previous clocks have been sold.  One of these (#6) is already sold and I expect #7 to find an owner before it is finished, if the past is any indicator of what to expect.

Joseph Windmills Resting Quietly

Clock #6 is the smallest body clock I have ever made, designed after a famous clock I had the pleasure to restore years ago for a famous actress living in Los Angeles.  That clock was from the Wethersfield Collection of English Clocks and was made by Joseph Windmills, in London in 1690.
At that time I found a clock dealer in London who made her an offer of $150k to purchase it, but she turned him down.  She would rather have the clock than the money.

Wethersfield Collection Page 22

This Windmills clock is interesting and has some dramatic marquetry, using olive oyster frisage decorated with ebony and boxwood pinwheels and fans.  Very modern for the time.  It also has a very narrow body, where most clocks need a 10" swing for the pendulum, this clock only needs 9".  I searched for many months online until I found a period clock works which had the required dimensions.  I am having David Lindow make a new period engraved brass face for these works, with my name of course.

Unlike the original case, I do not have access to good aged English oak for the carcase, so I am building it out of tulip poplar, which is the best I can get locally.  After all, I choose to live in Southern California, so I need to compromise with my wood selection.  I used to use Honduras mahogany for all my secondary wood carcase construction, but those days are long past.  The only real choices I have are beech, oak and poplar.  Pine is out of the question due to cost and poor quality.

Did I hear Jorgensen Clamps Were Out of Business?

My normal method for making a tall case clock case is to dry fit the pieces together, getting all the joinery right.  Then I take it apart and press the veneer surfaces on each board, leaving the edge banding off.  After the sides and front are glued together I can add the edge banding, covering the corners and edges.  Since I am using all sawn material (1.5mm thick) there is plenty of thickness in the veneers to work with.

The oysters are purchased from Patrick George, in Paris, and sawn specifically for me.  I always get the first choice of his material, and just last month ordered another $3k worth of olive to replace material I have used.  I am designing a William and Mary chest of drawers with olive oyster marquetry for a good client in Dallas and need the best material for that project.  I am proud to say that this same client owns my first clock, a copy of the Tompion clock at the Met in New York.

Adding The Ebony and Boxwood Sawn Veneers

To produce the decoration for the door, I use a standard assembly board process.  Stretching Kraft paper over a board and building face down with hot glue lets me put together very complicated patterns with ease.

Mastic Filler Added to Back Surface of Design

After I put all the oyster pieces down, I added the ebony and boxwood pieces one at a time, carefully trimming each piece to fit with a rabbet plane.  As each element was fitted into its respective cavity on the assembly board, it was held with masking tape.  After all the ebony and boxwood pieces were set in place the masking tape was carefully removed, leaving the elements in their position.  I then used clear packing tape to hold all the pieces together, trimming around the outside for each design.  This method allowed me to lift out the entire assembly, add some hot glue and then quickly place it back in place, clamping briefly.  Removing the clear tape is the last step.

Face Side After Removal of Kraft Paper

Once all the pieces were put together on the Kraft paper, I applied mastic, as usual, making a paste of hot water, thin glue and Cuban mahogany filtered sawdust.  After this was dry, I lightly sanded the surface, cut away the Kraft paper and used Old Brown Glue to apply the entire panel to the substrate.

Door Ready to Trim to Fit Case

The next day I removed it from the press and used cold water to scrape off the paper and glue from the face.  This exposed the final pattern for the first time.

Clock Before Sanding and Finish 

The next stage of this project is to build the bonnet and get the face from David Lindow.

Homage To Trees

Photo Credit: Beth Moon, San Francisco, "Ancient Trees: Portrait of Time" 

I have always been lucky to be able to earn a good living working with wood.  I am surrounded by amazing species of exotic hardwoods, in all shapes, sizes and colors.  I spend hours looking through the wood pile searching for exactly the perfect piece for whatever project I have in mind.  I keep in mind how precious this material is and always recycle the scrap for future needs.  After nearly 50 years I have a surprising collection of material, and I am respectful of my treasure.

I have also spent years playing music, both on the violin and viola, in orchestras and quartets.  There is a sacred feeling which is created by wooden instruments.  They actually have a voice and personality, which is a direct function of the wood.  It is the voice of the trees.

I feel the same way when I get any chance to walk in a forest.  The sound of the wind in the leaves and the tree trunks and branches moving is amazing.  To me it is dramatic and intense.  I usually just stop in my tracks, close my eyes and focus my senses on the rhythm and "breathing" of the trees.

Perhaps, since I grew up in a desert environment, I am more sensitive to the trees than someone who grew up surrounded by dense timber.  Perhaps not.  For me, however, it is one of the most personal and intimate experiences I can have.  You are never alone in a forest.

There is a poem by Michael S. Glasier which expresses how I feel:

The Presence of Trees

I have always felt the living presence
Of trees
The forest that calls to me as deeply
As I breathe
As though the woods were marrow of my bone
As though
I myself were a tree, a breathing, reaching
Arc of the larger canopy
Beside a brook bubbling to foam
Like the one
Deep in these woods,
That calls
That whispers home.

Growing up in the 60's I read a lot of Hermann Hesse literature and appreciated his insight.  On this particular subject he wrote in his story, called "On Trees":

"When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still!  Be still!  Look at me!  Life is not easy, life is not difficult."

Recently I took a cruise out into the Atlantic ocean for several weeks.  For the first time in my life I found myself surrounded by nothing but sea and sky.  (Did you know that the horizon of the ocean is only about 12 miles away?  It seems like you can see forever, but not even close.)  I found a book in the library which gave me a lot of peace and solitude.  It was written in 2008 by Nalini M. Nadkarni, and the title is "Between Earth and Sky--Our Intimate Connections To Trees."

The author has spent her life as a scientist and philosopher living in the canopy of trees deep in the Amazon rain forest.  She has studied the ecosystem extensively and her observations of life among the trees is enlightening.  We all perceive our environment individually and her perception of the trees, as she wrote in her text, had a deep influence on me, as I floated in the ocean, far from any tree or land.

I had time to watch some movies on the television in the cabin and selected two which seemed to be sympathetic to the theme of her book.  The first was staring Eddie Murphy, and is called "A Thousand Words."  Eddy plays a fast talking salesman looking for some peace and is visited by a tree which looses a leaf each time he says a word.  When the last leaf falls he will die.  I read a similar story many years ago by O. Henry, one of my favorite authors.  (You may have realized that O. Henry deeply influences my style of writing, as many of my blog posts follow his story format.)  His story was called "The Last Leaf" and can be found online.  It is a story of a sick woman who looks our her window in the hospital and sees a vine, which looses its leaves every day.  She knows she will die when the last leaf falls, but a man secretly paints a leaf on the wall to fool her and she survives.  I will let you read the story yourself to find out what happens to the man.

Another movie I watched was related but very strange.  "The Odd Life of Timothy Green" was made in 2012 and tells the story of a couple trying to have a child.  They put their wishes in a box and bury it in the back yard.  Overnight a young boy grows up where the box was.  The strange part is that his legs are covered with leaves.  As he fulfills each of their wishes, the leaves fall off.

It is sad to reflect on the global destruction of the last remaining forests.  It is such a sad fact that the news does not even talk about it.  We are killing the very species which give us oxygen while at the same time we are producing machines which generate carbon dioxide.  It is not much of a stretch to imagine that when the last leaf falls we will die.

This is what I reflect on when I search for a piece of wood.  How important it is that I respect the life of the tree which was sacrificed so that I could create an instrument, or table, or cabinet or chair.  By properly using wood in a way that understands its strength and beauty, I pay homage to its life.

In Nadkarni's book I also found a simple statement by Rumi that inspires me everyday:

Every Tree

Every tree, every growing thing as it
Grows says this truth: you harvest what
You sow.  With life as short as a half-
Taken breath, don't plant anything but
Love.

POSTSCRIPT:  After I finished this post, I felt satisfied that I had created something insightful and personal.  However, the next day, as I walked to work, something happened which made me want to add a final thought to this message.

I have walked to work on the same quiet residential streets for 46 years.  Since I walk to work about sunrise and I walk East, I am treated with the rising sun through the various trees which live in the neighborhood.  I have watched these trees grow up over the years and have formed a personal relationship with many of them.  (Not palm "trees" however, they are just tall bushes...)

Last year a neighbor cut down the largest and most beautiful jacaranda tree I have ever seen.  The trunk was nearly 3 feet in diameter!  The reason they cut it down was that the purple flowers were "messy".  They replaced it with a palm tree, which promptly died.  Now they have no shade and the yard is a desert wasteland.

Yesterday, as I walked to work I was shocked to see that the only pine trees in the area had disappeared.  These trees, which do not usually grow well in this climate had reached a height of at least 60 feet.  Every day for nearly 50 years I would stop on my walk, under their branches, and play hide and seek with the squirrels while kicking the pine cones through the needles that lay on the ground.

Now, overnight, these beautiful trees were gone.  All that was left was a hole in the sky.

In my mind and memories, I still see them living where they belong, and pay homage to the ghosts of trees long gone as I quietly reflect on how they contributed to my existence.

Where Have All The Antiques Gone?

Here's Looking At You Kid 2016

As I walk to work every day, I ponder the complexities of life and the simplicity of living.  It takes me about 10 minutes if I walk briskly and slightly more if I stop to look at things around me.  During that time, when I am not bothered by the appointments and responsibilities of work, I am able to do "free thinking."

Lately I have been reflecting more and more about the antique business and what I have learned over the past 46 years walking the same neighborhood and doing essentially the same work, restoring old furniture.  Today, since this is the last day of the year, I decided to sit down and put into words some of the thoughts that have occupied me over the past year.

In particular, "What has happened to the antique business?"

Last week, a good friend and highly respected appraiser in the business, sent me an article from the recent issue of the Economist, written by fellow appraser Marcus Wardell.  As I read this piece, it seemed to reinforce all the opinions I have formed during the past few years, as the business I am in has undergone significant changes.

Just this week Patrice and I were standing in the workshop, surrounded by projects, and we were discussing how, just 10 years ago, this shop was full of period 18th century pieces of the highest quality.  Today it seems to be just "old" furniture, mostly without much value.  What happened?

Sure, we still are working on Boulle surfaces and, in some cases, high end pieces.  But, there are not dozens of projects of similar quality waiting in line for our specialized attention.  We are not driving around Bel Air and Rancho Santa Fe on weekly deliveries like we did for decades.

To start out his article, Mr. Wardell notes that the Louvre des Antiquaires, located just across the street from the Louvre museum in Paris, is now in the process of closing shops and turning into a retail space for high end fashions.  He points out that, in London, all but three of the hundreds of antique shops have disappeared in the traditional "brown mile" of stores.  In New York City, Kentshire Galleries closed and sold its remaining inventory at Sotheby's.  All the top auction houses now feature much less furniture and are focusing on contemporary art, jewelry and wine.

Here, in my neighborhood, the local paper had a lead story last month which announced the end of "Antique Row" on Adams Avenue, where I first opened my store in June of 1969.  I still remember the antique dealer from the store directly across the street walking in to meet me.  In a rather cheerful tone, he asked me "What do you do for a living?"  I replied in my most confident voice, "I am an antique dealer."  His reply was simply, "Yes, but what do you do for a living?"

Now it's almost a half century later and I still wonder how I make a living at this craft.  In my defense, even though I don't have a million dollars in the bank, I do own my business location, all my tools, materials and inventory, as well as nice cars and a large home near the park.  All bought and paid for by working with my hands, and experience gained from living with antiques.

When I started out in the business you could buy real nice old furniture, in oak, walnut, rosewood and mahogany, for very little money.  I found many nice early pieces in thrift stores and used furniture stores.  With a little work cleaning and fixing small details, I could turn a quick profit, as the market for buying antiques was growing rapidly, and demand remained strong through the Bicentennial in 1976.

Today there is no demand for this early stuff at all.  Why?

Part of it is that to appreciate antiques you need a sophisticated understand of early culture, craft and historical perspective.  I am sorry to say these talents are not so common in the younger generation, who should, by all accounts, be the consumer for these items.  Rather than consume durable goods, the general attitude these days is to own disposable objects.  When they break they are just replaced.  Just look at our attitude towards electronic items, like TV's and phones.  They are expensive and last a few years.  Because the newer versions are so much better and the old ones were not designed to be repaired, they are just discarded when they break or become obsolete.

This is not environmentally sustainable.

It is true that, over centuries of collecting objects, the desire to own objects from an earlier period has gone up and down with periodic cycles of demand.  In ancient Rome the elite sought out Greek bronzes, sculptures and vases.  Again, during the Renaissance, rich young gentlemen took the Grand Tour and returned flush with valuable antiques to demonstrate their worldly experience.

With the emergence of the middle class during the Victorian Period, a large new consumer class began to spend money on early objects to decorate their homes.  Mr Wardell points out "By 1890 Paris had 300 antique shops, up from 25 in 1850...but antiques, like clothes, go in and out of style.  They boomed again in the 1950's and 1980's, when 'period rooms' in a single nostalgic style were all the rage."

When I read interior design magazines today or visit rich client's homes, all I see are simple, unassuming, plain lines, devoid of decoration or expensive materials.  Each room is designed exactly like a hotel room.  Neutral colors, basic functionality, predictable forms and function.  Nothing to challenge the senses or intellect.  Nothing to draw your attention.  In my opinion, completely boring.

Mr. Wardell continues: "Many successful decorators sell furniture lines, and therefore have a financial incentive to suggest new items.  Appreciating antiques, and knowing what to buy and at what price, takes study and training that few people have."

There is another aspect to this lack of investment in antiques which I can directly blame on the dealers themselves.  The presence of fakes, and the common practice of selling fakes and copies as "authentic" has seriously damaged the confidence of the consumer.  Too many times I have been the expert who has to explain to the owner that the expensive antique he just bought is a "pastiche" or simple fake, and that it has nothing more then decorative value.

For example, in Los Angeles many years ago I was asked by my friend, the appraiser, to provide analysis of a rather large and expensive armoire.  The client had paid $250,000 for this cabinet, which was a Louis XV television cabinet!  The dealer had taken two armoires, cut one in half down the center and attached the sides to each end of the center armoire, making a single cabinet about 8 feet wide.

We were able to get the dealer to refund the money and the cabinet was returned to the store.  Several years after that, as I was in another mansion up in the hills above LA, I mentioned this event to the client, who then exclaimed "I think you had better look at the armoire in my bedroom!"  To my surprise, it was the same cabinet, sold at the same price, by the same dealer.  Again we were able to get the dealer to refund the money and the cabinet was returned.

Soon after that event, as I drove down the street in the antique section of Los Angeles, I looked in the window of the dealer's store and there, in all its glory, stood the same cabinet waiting for the next victim.

These actions do not instill confidence in the buyer.  If only the dealer would clearly price the genuine antiques properly and identify the "decorator" pieces fairly, the buyer would be more inclined to shop.  The lure of the quick buck by these unscrupulous dealers has ruined the market.

On another point, our living habits have changed in the past generation.  Armoires which used to be popular for hiding TVs are not needed, as flat screen televisions are just screwed to the wall.  Smaller rooms in homes and condos do not work well with larger pieces of furniture.  Modern architecture does not include traditional spaces for traditional furniture.  In fact the dining room has disappeared, as we often eat in front of the TV and formal dining parties are less and less common.  Gone is the demand for sideboards and dining tables and chairs.  They are worthless these days.

There is one part of the antique market which has always been solid: the 1%.  It is a fact that the genuine object, which has been professionally conserved and includes a significant provenance will always demand a high price.  These pieces are naturally rare and the very sophisticated consumers with unlimited resources will compete for ownership and bragging rights.  As Mr. Wardell mentions: "They see antiques as 'an undervalued piece of art'."

One of the most famous antique dealers in Paris, Benjamin Steinitz, says "If you have a Picasso or Jeff Koons everyone knows what it is and that you're a success.  If you have a lovely Andre-Charles Boulle desk, people may think you have the taste of your grandmother."

When the world economy crashed in 2008, the business of antiques was hit hard.  Since the market for furniture is directly related to the health of the real estate market, buyers stopped buying.  As the market recovered in real estate it is interesting that the market for antiques failed to follow.  The reason is that there is way too much inventory.  After the crash I noticed a trend among high end antiques dealers.  Since it is not good business to put "Half Off Sale!" signs in the window of a high end shop, these dealers began quietly disposing of their unsold inventory which was in storage.  For several years the auction houses have been full of this inventory, which has returned only a fraction of its original pre-2008 value.

I have seen too many examples of clients who paid at the top the market and now are selling at the bottom of the market.  They are often forced to settle for a small fraction of their initial investment.  The demand just doesn't match the supply.  At the same time that dealers are liquidating tons of stock, the older clients are down sizing.  Since their children do not want the stuff they have collected over their life time, they are forced to either settle for a fraction of its worth or just give it away.

The market for antiques today, such as it exists, has transformed from a knowledgeable dealer in a bricks and mortar business location to an unknown person with a internet connection.  Ebay, Craig's list,1st Dibs and similar sites are now the preferred place to shop, with all the problems associated with gambling on the unknown.

As I walk to work each day these thoughts fill my mind.  But I am not discouraged or depressed.  I am always excited to come to work and enthused about the future for my craft.  I console myself with the realization that antiques have survived the test of time and will return to fashion at some point in the future.  It may take years, but I am a very patient person.  Life is a process, not a destination.

I live and work with antique furniture because it gives me comfort and pleasure.  I have never thought of "investing" in antiques for a profit.  They are not a good investment commodity, in any event, as they are not easy to sell, like stocks.  You buy them because they give you pleasure.  They are beautiful to look at and they make a home personal and stimulating to live in.  They "speak" to me, since I understand how they were made and used.  I am transported back in time to a period when quality was measured by skill and materials.

I care about the world and its finite resources.  Rare woods and materials are disappearing.  It is no longer possible to cut down huge mahogany, cherry or walnut trees, or harvest tortoise shell or ivory. Why not protect the surviving resources as they exist in antique objects?  I am the first person to support CITIES and the protection of endangered species, but I am the last person to throw a tortoise shell and ivory tea caddy that was made in 1800 away in the trash.

Collecting and restoring antiques not only preserves these early objects for the future, when they will once again be in demand, but also reduces the need for new replacement objects that have an increasing carbon footprint.  Modern furniture uses a high percentage of man-made synthetic materials and often toxic chemicals.  In addition, the manufacture and transport of these new items is causing enormous damage to the environment.

Mr. Wardell concludes his article as follows: "Today's youngsters, who are much more socially conscious, will wake up to the appeal of buying something that exists already and is handcrafted from high-quality wood, rather than something that requires a new tree to be cut down and may have been manufactured in poor working conditions."

Remember, an antique piece of furniture was made from a tree that was harvested by hand, transported by wind and water power, and made into its final shape with human effort.  You can't get more "green" than that!  Give a homeless antique shelter.  Open your home to the past.

The Life of a Picker or On The Road Again

I just returned from delivering a Federal card table to an old client in Dallas.  This was a table I made many years ago and always thought I would keep for myself.  It stood in the front window of the shop with the SAPFM Cartouche on top.  Now I have to make another table to fill the gap.

It has been many years since I drove East on 8.  It brought back many memories of trips I made some 40 years ago, during my early years as a collector and dealer of American furniture. I often watch the two guys on the TV these days, driving their Sprinter around the country side digging up broken bicycles and old signs.  That was my life for nearly a decade during the 1970's.

Starting in 1969, when I opened my antique business, I began regular driving trips to collect inventory and visit historic houses and museums.  Since I lived in San Diego, it was essential that I travel to the East to find bargains and inventory that I could restore and sell.  I had a Ford F250 pick up truck with a large cab over camper.  It had a bed, sink, stove and toilet, as well as two extra gas tanks.  With over 60 gallons of gas I could drive many miles before needing to stop and refill.

I would take as much cash as I could spare and drive East, nearly every month.  I must have made at least 50 trips around the country during that decade, each time taking someone to help me travel.  I took my wife, my brother, my cousin or any good friend who wanted to travel.  We had some real adventures.

My buying trips began with trips to the mid West, around Omaha, where, during that time, farms were being sold and farm house furniture was available for a song.  I could buy press back oak chairs for $5/each, oak tables for $40, roll top desks for $100 and once I bought a  dozen treadle sewing machines for $10/each.  Anything made of oak would quickly sell as soon as it was refinished, and I would take the profit and go again.

Once I stopped in Omaha at an old antique shop downtown, in a large old brick building.  This was before I upgraded to the camper, and I just had an open lumber rack on the truck.  The owner of the shop told me that he was closing and that I could have everything in the basement for $200.  I went down the stairs with a flashlight and saw tons of stuff.  More than I could possibly take.  My brother and I started loading the truck and, when we got the pile up to about 12 feet we tied it securely and took off.  It looked crazy, with tables on the roof of the cab and stuff sticking out the back of the tail gate.

At some point on our return I remember having to stop suddenly at a stop light and watching a large round oak table top slid off the roof, hit the hood and end up in the middle of the intersection.

When we crossed over the State line into Kansas, sticking to the back roads, as was our habit, we were immediately pulled over by the State Police.  My brother and I both had long hair, were barefoot and looked like hippies, which we actually were.  I was following all the traffic rules, so I thought he pulled us over because the load looked unstable.

We were treated rather roughly and he asked me for a receipt for all the items in the truck.  I said that I had bought it all with cash for $200 and had no receipt.  He said that there had been a lot of house robberies  lately and we looked suspicious.  I admitted that we probably looked suspicious, but that it was the truth.  I took some time for him to let us go.  We did not return to that part of Kansas again.

Last week, as I drove again through Los Cruces I was reminded of another time my brother and I got in trouble with the law.  The drive shaft fell out of our truck and we needed to find a repair shop.  We found a nice family business that was willing to help but they did not have the part.  They told us that we could find it in a junk yard in El Paso, but it was late so we decided to hitch a ride the next day.  My brother and I walked to the intersection of the highway and found a clean place by the side of the road to sleep.  I remember it was difficult to sleep, with the semi trucks driving by a few feet away, but we had no alternative.

About 2 in the morning we woke up with bright lights in our faces.  The local sheriff had found us and was not happy.  He told us to get out of town.  Now.  We walked to the edge of town with him driving behind us all the way, making sure we were leaving.  The next day we stood for hours with our thumbs out hoping to get a ride to El Paso, which finally happened.  Then we found the drive shaft, but the bus would not let us get on with a drive shaft, so we had to hitch back.  It took all day.

People do not easily pick up two hippies, who had slept in the dirt all night, while they are holding a 6 foot drive shaft.

The Mexican family took us in when we returned, fed us and let us sleep on their floor, even thought neither of us spoke the other's language.  After they fixed the truck we were on our way.

Probably the most interesting incident with the law happened in Wichita, Kansas.  My friend and I were loaded with antiques and returning through town after mid night, during a snow storm.  My friend had long red hair and we both were dirty and tired from a long trip.  Since it was snowing, I was driving about 10 miles an hour and thought I was the only vehicle on the road at the time.  However a State Trooper pulled up behind us and turned on his red light.

When I stopped, he asked me for my license and registration and to step out of the truck.  It was cold.  He told me to get into his car.  Then he drove away!  I had no idea what was happening and he said nothing.  We drove across town and out a dirt road into the dark.  You can imagine what I was thinking.  This is the end of the road for me.

He took me to a house, unlocked the front door and told me to go inside.  What was I supposed to do?  Then he walked me into his bedroom, where his wife was sleeping in the bed.  It was dark and he turned on the light.  His wife woke up and asked what he was doing home.  He told her that he had found an antique dealer and was going to show me some of the antiques he wanted to sell.  He then pointed his flashlight at the dresser next to the bed and asked, "What about that one?"

OMG!

During the next 15 minutes he walked me around the house, into the kids room, into the living room and in each room asking me if I wanted to buy anything.

I told him that I was returning with a full load but would certainly stop in the next trip.

Finally, he drove me back to my truck where my friend was nearly frozen.  As I got into the truck, turned on the engine and began to slowly drive off into the snow storm, he asked me, "What was that all about?  You were gone for over an hour!"

I just said, "I don't want to talk about it."  And we never returned to Wichita either.

Happy Haiku!

Today I reach exactly 2/3 of a life in good health and content with my life.  I have a productive routine and have been recognized both for my professional work and public contributions.  It is comforting to reflect on past events and contemplate future potentials.

I just finished breakfast and, as I was washing the dishes, looking out the kitchen window,  and drinking the last of the coffee, my attention was focused on the old apple tree that Kristen and I planted so many years ago, with the help of our sons.  Now our sons are grown men and the apple tree is hanging on, each year struggling to survive.

We had to amputate a large portion of the tree this year as it just died unexpectedly.  One of the remaining branches then started leaking a clear fluid which ran down the trunk for months.  Each day the finches would fly by and drink this fluid, right in front of the kitchen window.  One day, as we watched them feast, Kristen asked me, "what do you think that fluid is?"

"Apple juice" was my instant reply, without really thinking.

Now the fluid has stopped, and the branch has seemed to heal itself.  The leaves are nearly gone and the tree is resting, waiting, and probably thinking to itself, "what season is this?"  After all, next week is predicted to be nearly 80 degrees and clear.  Perfect beach weather.

Then it hit me.  Today I expect a lot of "happy birthday" comments (thanks to Facebook).  Instead, I came up with this "happy haiku" which expresses more perfectly my emotions.  I hope you find some meaning in it, too.

Apple tree in snow:
waiting for Spring to reveal
its fruit of knowledge.

Reflections Of An Old Man

Beautiful Marquetry Card from Paul Miller

Years ago, when I was much younger, these thoughts came to me as I walked home from work:

A Strong Man
           Knows when to quit.

A Great Man
           Goes beyond what is possible.

A Wise Man
            Knows his limits.
                   Paces himself.
                       And realizes his full potential in the time he has been given.


As you start another year, I would like to leave you with this "Woodworker's Blessing:"

May your chisel rest sharp.
     May your saw stay straight.
          May your plane prove true.

And

May your feet rest on shavings
     All the days of your work.

Good Press Always Helps Ego

Over the years I have had the pleasure of being interviewed for different publications.  It is always nice when they act interested in what I do for a lifestyle.

As a person with a diverse background that includes journalism, I am fascinated by the specifics of how the interview is translated into notes which are then written out into a story line, which is then edited to fit the space, and matched up with a copy reader who thinks up some clever headline or kicker.

Sometimes it works well and sometimes I wonder who they were talking to when they got the facts, since it doesn't sound like me.  But, like they say, any press is good press.  Just spell my name right.

One of the national publications for the wood industry is Woodshop News.  I get this magazine free, like most woodworkers, and am amazed by the growth of the industry over the years.  I remember when the newest table saw or blade was hot news.  Now, when I look at the pages, I see machines that are the size of a small house and cost six figures to purchase.  I have no idea what these things do or what I would do with them, but they are fun to look at and wonder...why?

As I look up from the magazine, my head full of futuristic visions of the "modern woodshop," I focus on a beam of sunlight landing on my workbench, telling me I should put away my chisels and smoothing plane and get to work.  I think to my self, "A Roman woodworker would be right at home here."  I am a Luddite.

Anyway, from time to time the editors at Woodshop News contact me for a story.  I can only imagine that they look at their demographics and decide that they should include some old, traditional woodworking character who still lives in the past, to balance their general mix of power tool articles.  So, I was pleased when they sent Jennifer Hicks to interview me a few years ago.  She was pleasant and interested and spent a lot of time listening to me talk about myself.  One thing I have no problem with is talking about myself, as my wife knows too well.

When the article appeared in the magazine I was impressed by the way she presented my story.  It was extremely well written and included many of the important stages of my career, in a simple story line which was easy to follow.  I enjoyed reading it and, at times, had to remind myself that I had actually done the things she said I did.  After all, some 40 plus years "at the bench" can seem like a lifetime.

This blogging experience has required a long learning curve for me, so I am just now figuring out how to post these things.  Look for more links and videos soon, now that I can do this.  What fun it is sharing these "personal" insights with anyone who wants to take the time to click their mouse.

Here it is:

Woodshop News Article

Thanks for visiting!  Thanks also to Tod and Jennifer at Woodshop News for their interest!

Looking Back To The Future

Well, another year is put in the memory bin. It seems like such an arbitrary moment to change everything and start over. All the invoices, bills and receipts get filed into boxes. New folders are in place, ready to receive new invoices, bills and receipts. New calendars are on the wall, already filling up with dates and events which are planned in the next few months.

It seems rather arbitrary to me, since I am a native of Southern California, and there is no actual climate change to signal the end or start of the seasons. It will be in the mid 70s today, sun shining, clear skies, no breeze, just like any other day. I am at work, doing what I always do, just like every day. Pick up trash, put away tools, sharpen chisels, sweep the floor, heat the glue and repair something valuable, talk to clients, and in general just solve problems.

The one thing unusual about the start of the year is that I tend to get rather nostalgic. I often think back over the years and reflect how my life is the culmination of events and decisions which seemed insignificant at the time, but later proved to be decisive and very significant. I am fortunate to be in business and thank my clients for their support all the time. I frequently have clients who mention that I worked on something for them "years ago" and they were very happy with the results. I also have younger clients who mention I worked for their parents or grandparents and now they need me to do a project for them.

Having never believed in spending money of traditional advertising, I realize how important it is to have my named passed around by "word of mouth". It takes years to build a good reputation and only a few mistakes to destroy it. That is why I have always gone out of my way to make the customer happy with my work.

For example, early on in my career I had a decorator client who brought me a standard upholstered club chair. Not really an antique, but a nice frame made in the 1930s. She had picked out a very wild and contemporary fabric that looked like a Jackson Pollack painting. I proceeded to upholster the chair, which took some time. When she came to pick it up, she was shocked. "You put the fabric on wrong side out!" she exclaimed. I showed her the surplus roll of material, and how you can tell the front surface from the back. "This is a brocade weave," I explained, "and the pattern is made by pulling different colors of thread from the back through to the front surface. If you look on the back side, you can see all the loose threads which are not part of the pattern. The front side is smooth and finished." "No," she answered, "the back side is the show surface. I expected you to know that!"

So I took all the material off the chair, turned it carefully over, and put it back in place, wrong side out. She was happy with the results, and I never heard from her again.

Another time, I picked up two reproduction French armchairs with new white upholstery. The beechwood frames were painted a dark color. She asked me to refinish them "natural". I went through a lot of trouble to protect the upholstery, as I used paint remover to remove all the paint, sand the wood and apply a clear shellac finish and wax. When she saw them, she was shocked. "I asked you for a natural finish!" she exclaimed. "Like that!" and she pointed to a piece of "shabby chic" which had been painted white, then rubbed with solvents until most of the paint was worn off.

I returned with the chairs, covered the fabric again and painted them white. The client was happy with the results, and I never heard from her again.

Those clients are part of the past. It took years for me to recognize the subtle hints which indicate whether the client is right for me or not. During the early years, I took every job which walked in the door. I met a lot of people who liked what I did and some who were never satisfied, no matter what the result was. I learned to avoid the latter. It is much easier to walk away and not look back then to get involved with a project that can have no successful conclusion.

These days, because of "word of mouth" and lots of kind articles which have been written about me, I seem to get wonderful jobs and satisfied clients most of the time. In my business, getting references and work is like a miner who discovers a gold streak in the earth. By working for clients with nice pieces, I get referred to other clients with nice pieces. And so it goes...

Certainly the past year was a challenge in many ways. Compared to the year before, it was somewhat better, and I am always optimistic. In the long run, it all averages out. The antique business is a wonderful business. The objects are often extraordinary, the clients are involved, and there is always something new to learn about the masterpieces of the past.

I look back on the choices I have made in the past and wouldn't change a thing. It is always exciting to see what new project will arrive tomorrow.

Memories of an Antique Dealer

I have often written in this blog about what I have been doing for the past 4 decades. When I get a call from an old client who mentions their name, I am often at a loss to put a face to the name. I usually ask what was the project or what was the piece I worked on, and then it often comes back to me. Sad to say that I remember the piece better than the person, but it's true.

Recently, I received an email:

Dear Pat:

I hope I have the right person, the Pat Edwards that used to operate an antique furniture refinishing business in the Adams Avenue area. If so, I want to thank you for my purchase of a Hoosier type kitchen cabinet from you in 1971-1972. My husband and I had just moved into a 1906 Craftsman home in old downtown La Mesa and we broke our bank to buy a Hoosier you had just refinished. We spent $125 and it seemed like so much to us (well, it was!!)

Over the years I bought, scrounged, refinished and often sold antique furniture, but never did I come across a better one than the one I bought from you, and thus I still have it and enjoy it every day.

We moved from La Mesa to an 1896 Victorian in Lemon Grove and the Hoosier was in the old kitchen there for 34 years. In 2007 we built a log home and moved to Hayfork (yes, Hayfork) in Northern CA and put the Hoosier front and center in our log home. Recently I bought an older pie safe and had to squeeze the Hoosier a little, but it remains my star piece.

I have often wanted to thank you again, so here it is! By the way, what was the name of your shop? And, do you have a similar business today?

Attached to this email were several nice photos of an old oak Hoosier kitchen cabinet. When I saw them, I was transported to a barn in Kansas in 1971. It was cold and there was snow on the ground. I had a few hundred dollars in cash and a pick up truck with a lumber rack and a tarp. The barn was full of oak furniture. Square and round tables, sets of press back chairs, treadle sewing machines, and kitchen tables and hoosier cabinets.

The "dealer" was the farmer, who invited me to dinner and fed me fresh corn and a steak. I bought several items, loaded them on the truck and moved on down the road. One of these items was a Hoosier which was nearly complete. Often these old kitchen cabinets lost their "guts" which included a wide variety of attachments to make the cook happy. Owning a good Hoosier meant that the person working in the kitchen had a central location for almost all the tools of the trade. Using a Hoosier along with a kitchen work table was essential for all small farm homes to efficiently prepare the meals.

This Hoosier had everything, including stained glass windows. It only needed refinishing...I can't remember if it was painted white, as most of them were, but I do remember refinishing it. See the next blog entry for me using methylene chloride at that time, since it was the only way I knew to do things.

I also remember repairing the tambour roll, which ended up working nicely. I was also pleased that the pull out enamel surface was not badly chipped.

In any event, I transported it 1500 miles home, refinished it and put in in my little shop with a price tag of $125. I assume that included a profit, but for the life of me I find that hard to believe.

I do remember at that time another client walking into the shop and asking about a nice oak roll top desk I had for sale. When she asked about the price I said "Three fifty." She pulled out a five dollar bill and expected change!

In any event, I am pleased to hear that some of the things I have worked on have been important to the people who supported me. Gosh, when I think of all the antiques I have taken apart, restored, conserved, upholstered, finished, or sold over the years...each of them is important to the owner and represents an important possession in their life.

I am happy to have been of service.

Future of Antiques

I note in the New York Times today that Albert Sack has passed away at the age of 96. He was the last member of a family business that opened in 1905 and dominated the top level of the antique business for a century. His passing marks the end of an era.

I first met Albert in his store in the early 1970's. I was dressed in typical West Coast winter mountain gear: Swiss leather mountain boots, Levis, Pendleton and down jacket. Not exactly your upscale client. However, Albert invited me into his store, took several hours to walk around with me discussing the merits of each piece, and then showed me dozens of photographs of items he had sold in the past which were very helpful to my research. He knew I would never be able to purchase anything, but he recognized a fellow enthusiast of the field.

When you live with Antiques you live with history. American culture is fairly young. The value of understanding different periods of antiques is that it tells the personal story of how this country has evolved from one coast to the other. The transition from a farming based culture to a merchant and consumer based economy can be documented by the objects left behind.

During those early years of my travels around the country, searching for antiques in odd places, I called my research "cultural anthropology." That was before that term actually became a real class in some colleges. My idea was to visit some obscure antique store and ask the owner which pieces he had that he knew were made in that region, and why. I learned about regional characteristics, secondary woods, unique forms not made in other areas, and how each area reflected its particular ethnic origins, whether it was French, German, British, Canadian, or some other source of design.

At that time it was normal for the antique dealer to have a good understanding of his stock. Most dealers were connoisseurs of their speciality, and visiting a shop was always a learning experience. Just ask a question and you would usually get a lecture on the merits and qualities of any object. They had a passion for collecting and wanted to share their enthusiasm.

I remember a distinguished dealer, well into his 80's, shaking with Parkinsons desease, who insisted on showing me the mark under a huge Chinese porcelain bowl. He lifted it off the table and turned it over, while I tried to get into a position where I could grab it if he dropped it. I had only remarked in passing that it was a spectacular bowl, and, in truth, I didn't know anything about Chinese porcelain. However, I now think of that bowl and that mark.

Antique shops today are filled with junk. The business has transformed into swap meets, garage sales, flea markets, storage unit auctions, and pawn shops. Even the roadshow focuses more on the money and less on the history and culture. Albert Sack was the last of his breed.

Like any business, the antique business is transforming and evolving. My generation is older and has collected for years, and now looks at downsizing but our children do not appreciate the stuff we want to give them. They want their post-modern environment and their electronic toys, but not something which was made centuries ago. They do not care about history or culture in the same way that Mr. Sack did.

That may change, and the change could come in a surprising form. People who care about the environment, climate change, carbon footprints, recycling, and all the other progressive ideas which are topical these days, will learn to appreciate antiques for another reason. Antiques are carbon neutral and "green". Antique furniture was harvested by human and animal power, shaped into their final form with sweat and skill, and represent the survival of historic old growth forests. Modern furniture is made with toxic glues and finishes, often transported around the world with petroleum based ships and fabricated and assembled with industrial machinery, consuming precious resources. Modern furniture is also designed to be disposable, since it does not survive many years and is usually not repairable.

Support your local antique dealer, if you have one. Support your local furniture repairman, if he is using hand tools and organic materials. Save the antiques your parents are trying to pass on. Cherish the history and culture of the past. It is your heritage. The real value is knowing how we got here and understanding the meaning of living with antiques.

I've Been Busy...

You may have noticed that the last few months I have neglected posting on my blog. I have been working on projects and busy with my diverse (volunteer) civic activities, and just didn't have the surplus creative energy to sit down and write something. So today, I just sat down and decided to start contributing again.

I am amazed at the stats for this blog, even though I have not posted anything for some time, I still get thousands of visits each month. I am encouraged and flattered that others think my blog has value. I am motivated to continue, and I have new topics to discuss which will expand the focus of this site. I want to talk about traditional period upholstery conservation and the philosophy of non interventive upholstery which has become all too acceptable in museums today. I also want to talk about developing and marketing my Old Brown Glue, which has become very much in demand over the past decade.

I also intend on discussing the issue of authenticating antique furniture. I am presenting my annual lecture at the University of California at Irvine, in association with the American Society of Appraisers, in June and my mind is full of talking points which are of value to both furniture conservators and collectors.

I value comments and would appreciate any input from you, dear reader. Please send me questions or comments and I will direct the content of this blog in that direction. I am more interested in having a conversation than just hearing myself think.

So, every few days now I will sit down and work on this site. But right now I need to finish restoring the nice Boston Sheraton mahogany card table which stands on the bench.

Thank you for your interest.

Home Sweet Home

Some people never move. I am one of those people. I have spent nearly 40 years in the same building doing the same work. I find it very pleasant and rewarding.

One of the problems with never moving is that you tend to keep stuff that you might have thrown away during relocation. I have never had to make that difficult decision; should I keep it or should I throw it away? Quite the opposite happens. When my wife and I decide to discard something from the home, my answer is "I will take it to the shop, in case I can find a use for it later."

My obsession with keeping stuff started at a very young age. In 1960 my parents built a home on the top of a hill. The house was on a dead end road, and just behind the backyard fence was the city landfill. That might sound like a problem to some people, after all, the smell was noticeable. But to me, it was like living next to a general store where everything was free.

During those years it was not the policy to cover everything up with dirt. So, at the end of the day, the workers went home, and I went to work. I found amazing things and drug them home, much to my parents "delight." There were lots of black and white TV's being thrown away, most of which worked perfectly. I built a Heathkit tube tester and fixed them, giving them to all my friends.

I found furniture, which I took apart and repaired, starting a career, before I even knew what a career was. One of the best parts of this broken furniture was the wood screws. I kept thousands of wood screws, sorting them according to size. I had no interest in Phillips, but selected all the slot head screws I could find. I still use these screws today, as the currently available screws are terrible, if you can even find a slot head to purchase. I consider myself an expert on the wood screw, and have devoted considerable research to the topic.

Getting back to the topic, I first opened my workshop in an abandoned church, kind of like Alice's Restaurant. I hired some other independent workers and made an effort to create a co-op restoration business. Within 6 months I realized most of these workers did not work well together, and someone broke in and stole all my hand tools. I took what I could salvage and retreated to my garage, working alone.

Around 1974 I was walking my son to school and I noticed that the TV Repair store was vacant. In short order I was talking to the owner of the property, an elderly lady who lived down the street. She agreed to rent me the store, if I would escort her to her weekly hair styling appointment and help her purchase her groceries. That sounded like a fair trade, since the rent was low, and the store had nice windows facing the school. It was three blocks to work.

Over the next 36 years I purchased the location and expanded into the entire property, removing all the interior walls, and adding a two story building in the back yard. I started with 250 square feet and ended up with 5,000 square feet. Needless to say, most of the shop is full of stuff, since I never learned to throw anything remotely useful away.

After all, why put it in the landfill when it still has something to offer?

Cover Boy

When Woodshop News contacted me last year to ask if I would like to be interviewed for a story, I was a little surprised. I have received and read a lot of woodworking magazines over the years, and the majority of them simply don't speak to me, personally.

When I have discussed my issues with different editors in the past, they all offer the same version of the argument: Magazines are in business to make a profit. The profit comes from the industry of selling woodworking machinery. Therefore, we need to appeal to the sector of the market who consumes that product the most.

It is the pyramid theory of woodworking. The group of woodworkers in the world fit into a pyramid. At the bottom, the majority of people who work wood simply make utilitarian objects in their garage when they have spare time, and consume a lot of things in the market place, as well as reading the most magazines and articles on how to do it. In the middle sector of the pyramid are the woodworkers, both amateur and professional, who are experienced and able to create interesting projects which are at a more advanced level. These woodworkers know more about the tools and methods and represent a more sophisticated consumer, who is willing to pay more for certain things. That is the market most woodworking magazines hope to attract in choosing their articles and advertisers.

That leaves the top of the pyramid. At the smallest level of the market are the individual artists and craftsmen who have managed to establish a reputation over the years. These people are likely to be members of the Furniture Society, or the Society of American Period Furniture Makers, or other, more local groups, often in a leadership position. Unfortunately for me, most magazines do not focus as often as I would like on articles which would appeal to the top of the pyramid, and that is a complaint I am always willing to express.

Woodshop News has established a secure market share which represents the "industry" of woodworking. If you want to spend a lot of money investing in the most advanced machinery this is the magazine which you would usually read. Tod Riggio has done an excellent job for a long time keeping this magazine positioned at the top of his market pyramid. From time to time there are articles about individual "artists" or "craftsmen" but the thrust of these articles is always presented from a business position.

So, when I was contacted by Jennifer Hicks, from Woodshop News, about an article, I immediately told her that I would not fit into their normal format. To her credit, she persisted and told me that she was looking to expand their coverage of woodworkers in the market. I was impressed with her professionalism and knowledge when I met her, and working with the photographer was very easy and enjoyable.

Now that the November issue is out, I am receiving calls and compliments from woodworkers across the country. Looking at Jennifer's column, "Taking Stock," I find her insight into why they choose to include me: "So the question here is whether Woodshop News is simply following the evolution of the industry or suggesting that shops that rely on traditional skills are a dying breed." I have often wondered about this very question.

She continues, "Interestingly, Edwards points out that the industry could evolve in a backwards fashion--and it just might. For one thing, the environmental movement continues to gain momentum, making the use of veneers and sustainable materials more popular than ever. Also, We can probably all agree that individual craftsmanship will always be valued, and, when the economy finally improves, customers will be willing to pay for it again."

I often think I am a dinosaur. The term "dying breed" hits close to home. All the elder statesmen who I looked up to when I was learning the trade are either dead or no longer productive. I have a very few good friends who can exist with hand skills in this business. Mike Dunbar, Roy Underhill, Al Breed, Don Webber, and a dozen other peers make up my world.

However, when I realize that all these men are teaching, like myself, I am encouraged. Perhaps we can keep the tradition alive and actually change the world. At the very least, we can change the way of thinking about the process of work. Embrace the Workmanship of Risk!

It is significant that an industry standard would choose to feature alternative methods of work at this time. It has been a century, almost exactly, since the famous "Form ever follows Function" lectures of Louis Sullivan, which defined the relationship between Man and Machine for the entire 20th century.

Is it possible that workers in the 21st century would return to "Form ever follows Process?"

My Walden Week

I find that my schedule has filled up over the years, instead of free time I now have no time. One result of "success" in my field is that I have been able to contribute "pro bono" community activities in support of non profit groups which I believe need my help.

So, now in my 6th decade of life, I find that I am running two corporations, full time, and sitting on 6 different non profit boards with different agendas. That has required me to work on remembering names and relationships which I was never particularly good at in the past.

My business is located in an historic business district in San Diego. In fact, North Park is the first business district to be developed outside of the proper downtown, located on the opposite corner of Balboa Park and initially served by the street cars of a century ago. When I selected my home and found a commercial location in the 60's, the dollar meant a lot, and prices were very low compared to today. For example, you could purchase a nice Craftsman home back then for less than $20,000, and I took advantage of that opportunity.

During the 1980's I realized that North Park was in hard times, and there were lots of commercial vacancies, and the rest of the stores were thrift shops. I discovered a State law which allowed for business districts to organize themselves and I began to walk, store to store, to see if I could get support for creating a North Park Business Improvement District, or BID.

When I was successful, I was elected president of the BID, and my civic activities began. Over the years I have been elected to serve on other boards, and I continue to do so as much as my work will allow. Currently, I am sitting on the board of directors of the North Park BID, the Lyric Opera, the Redevelopment Area PAC, the North Park Historical Society, the BID Foundation and the San Diego BID Council, where I currently sit as President. In that last position I represent 16 BIDs across the city which include 12,000 businesses.

I do not mention this to promote myself, although when I look at it it does seem excessive. I mention this because I have found that there is not any part of my schedule which is left open for me to leave town. I used to travel a lot. Taking a month off and going to Europe or the East Coast was easy. I just closed the door and drove away.

Now I have this iphone which shows me all the dates on my calendar which require me to be at some meeting or activity. This is retirement?

My father's family were woodworkers, and built Craftsman homes in Montana a hundred years ago. They had a mill and workshop in Whitehall, Montana, which today is essentially a ghost town. During the 20's they decided to build several cabins at Ennis lake, about 60 miles away, on the Madison River, in the Rockies. I grew up fishing the Madison, and I suppose I can be considered a pretty good fly fisherman and hunter.

Last week I just left. I decided that I could miss a few meetings, and told the other directors and staff that I had some "emergency business out of town" which required my attention. I got on a plane and 3 hours later I was chopping wood for the stove, drawing water from the artesian well, and fixing fence in the meadow.

Thank AT&T that I had no signal.