The Glue That Binds Us Together

When I first had the idea of modifying protein glue with urea to extend the open time, it was driven by purely selfish motivations.  I wanted to use protein glue for my work, and the hot glue pot required me to work fast to get good results.  Also, if the phone or doorbell rang during a glue up, it was trouble, as I had to decide whether to stop and answer it or start the glue up all over again.

Therefore, I embarked on a series of empirical tests to see what formulation of urea, glue and water would produce the best results.  I cooked and tested and threw away 37 different batches of glue, at some expense, all the time keeping records and charts of my progress towards that goal of reducing the gel point to room temperature, without affecting the glue strength.

When I got the recipe right, it solved my problems.  At last I was able to use protein glues for restoration and fabrication without worrying about interruptions creating a problem.  It was particularly good at penetration of fine cracks in wood, and the extended open time allowed me to put together damaged fragments of broken furniture before it gelled.

I never thought I would start selling glue and end up in the glue business.  But, over time, other woodworkers found out about it, and I started giving it away.  Word quickly spread and, at some point, I got a call from Joel at Tools For Working Wood, in New York.  He was very persuasive and insisted that I put it in a bottle and label it so he could sell it.

I needed a name for the glue.  Frustrated at the commercial success that Gorilla Glue had achieved, in spite of the fact that it was toxic and difficult to use, I thought of an animal name.  At first, I thought of "Pit Bull Glue" since I have had pit bulls most of my life, and thought the image of a snarling mouth full of teeth would look good on the label.  Then I thought of "Old Yeller Glue" since I am old enough to remember the movie and crying when they shot Old Yeller, who had rabies.  That name didn't last long, since it would be confused with the standard yellow glue most woodworkers use.

That made me think of white glue, yellow glue, and of course, brown glue. Thus the name "Old Brown Glue" was created, and instantly was criticized by everyone.  "You don't use the term 'old' when you are trying to sell something!"  Really? I thought, I like old things.

Now the glue is being sold all over North America, by Tools For Working Wood, Rockler, Lee Valley, Woodcraft, and others.  I have had many positive testimonials and answered many questions about using protein glues.

Perhaps the most interesting thing that selling Old Brown Glue has done is to introduce me to such a diverse audience of people, beyond the regular woodworking crowd.  I have had questions about its application and use from an amazing range of creative people.

There was the research professor at Johns Hopkins University who called me one day, as I was chopping wood behind my cabin in Montana.  He was developing a machine to zap kidney stones, and wanted to use my glue to make "artificial kidney stones" so he could test his machine.

There was the American Indian, in Kansas, who wanted to use my glue to make an "organic" wooden rocket, whatever that is.  I told him it would probably work to make the laminated wood tube, but I couldn't guarantee that it would not burn up.

There was the contractor, in Florida, who wanted to use my glue to veneer around 12' tall fiberglass columns in his building, so they could be finished to look like wood columns.

There was the scientist in Norway who wanted to thin the glue and spray it.  When I asked him about his idea, he said he was working on a secret process and didn't want to talk about it.

There was the contractor in Los Angeles who ordered 3 gallons of the stuff...at one time.

Last week I received an amazing email from Catherine Thompson with the photos posted here:

Hi Patrick

I thought that I'd let you know that I used your Old Brown Glue to glue the hides to a Tsugaru Shamisen that I have recently completed making.

The traditional glue is a mochi rice glue for regular Shamisen with the recent addition of some other non organic ingredient for the Tsugaru Shamisen due to the higher skin tension in that instrument.

Your glue worked wonderfully. The open time was a godsend as it takes a good 30-40 minutes to fully stretch out the hide. As I was tightening the hide I put a damp towel over the hide. I am in Banff AB, where it is very dry at this time of year and I thought the towel might help with a longer open time.
Catherine

I wrote her and asked for more information about what she was doing.  I asked her if I could use her photos and text on my blog, and she said she would be "honored."  I was "honored" and amazed when I saw what she was doing and what kind of lifestyle she lived.  She wrote back immediately:

The instrument, Tsugaru Shamisen, is a sort of 3 stringed Japanese banjo. There are other types of shamisen but the Tsugaru version is the largest with the thickest neck. It was originally a sort of street musician's instrument with close connections to the Goze, blind women travelling musicians and Bosama, the male version. This connection with nomadic music making is what drew me to the instrument in the first place. I also live a nomadic life mostly in the west of Canada. For the past couple of years I have been travelling in the spring and summer across saskatchewan and alberta with 2 horses camping, exploring etc etc. Much of my work *(most of which is musical in nature) explores this sort of living and contemplates the continuing destruction of wild lands and ways to try and be closer to the land.

I remember watching Kung Fu on TV many years ago (40 years ago!), where David Carradine would walk barefoot around the wilderness playing his flute. As I watched her videos and listened to her music, made with native materials, I was instantly reminded of the zen peacefulness that David exuded (when he was not fighting bad people).  This lady, Catherine, is aa amazing artist, living the nomadic existence, wandering around the wilderness, making music that truly comes from the earth.

You should visit her website: Catherine Thompson Blog  and see for yourself.

I don't know how she found me, but I do know that it was the internet that brought us together.  What an amazing time we live in.  A true musical nomad and a woodworking luddite brought together by a shared interest in the glue that binds us.

I could have named it "Human Glue" but I can see where that might be problematic.

Why Cuban Mahogany?

I have a lot of books.  I have always found the money for books.  I buy books instead of food.

I have several old editions, large format, which document the history of English furniture by wood.  One set, in four volumes, was published in 1906 by Percy Macquoid, and includes lavish illustrations of important examples of each type and period:  The Age of Oak, The Age of Walnut, The Age of Mahogany, and the Age of Satinwood.

When I started out collecting antiques, I instinctively followed this method of analysis, instead of the historical terms for the periods.  After all, as a young man, it is more difficult to think of Queen Anne and Chippendale, when trying to decide between a walnut chair and a mahogany chair, then to just look at the wood and pick the best example.

As I began my teaching career in Decorative Arts, of course I studied the historical periods and used them to discuss the different styles.  Always, in my mind, there was a clear evolution from domestic woods to imported woods, over time, culminating in the exotic selection of imported woods used in marquetry surfaces, which I found fascinating to look at.

As a collector, my budget determined what I could acquire.  During the 1970's I made a lot of money buying American Oak and refinishing it for the local market.  It was everywhere.  Oak is durable and plentiful.  There are different styles and many different forms, from Golden Oak to Mission Oak and from dining room sets to bedroom sets.  Quarter sawn or flat sawn, carved, turned and veneered.

At one point, I had a 6' diameter round oak table in my dining room with a dozen chairs around.  Many parties were enjoyed around that table, and it survived in good form.  It is now taken apart and stored in the back room of my shop, just because I couldn't get rid of it.

At some point, in the 80's, I started to buy walnut furniture.  That meant that, instead of furnishings from the 1880's to 1900, I was bringing home Victorian Renaissance furniture from the Civil War era.  Soon the oak was gone and the dark walnut was everywhere, accented by white marble tops and black teardrop pulls.

After that, I enjoyed a brief period of rosewood furniture, but it was scarce and expensive and I couldn't furnish the entire house with it.

That is when I discovered mahogany.  Amazing Cuban mahogany.  The true royal wood.  Huge solid slabs of wood, highly figured and rich in color, with a finish that you can fall into.  The perfect wood for furniture, whether veneered, turned or deeply carved.  Overnight the walnut and rosewood was out and the place was filled with mahogany.  Still is.  Can't get enough of it.  Even my 10' tall canopy bed.

See if you can find a book, published in 1926, edited by William Farquhar Payson, called "Mahogany, Antique and Modern."  It is the best and most complete book I have seen on the history of this wood.
As late as 1926, lumber dealers in the East Coast still were able to buy and sell enormous quantities of this wood, as seen in this illustration from the book:

Yes, that is a man standing there next to the pile of logs.  The caption says: "The supply of this mahogany is rather scarce, and the logs are obtainable now in comparatively small sizes only."  I suppose you can complain when you only get 20 foot logs that are nearly 3 feet in diameter. Just imagine the size of the logs that were used a century earlier!

Within 10 years from the publication of this book, the supply was gone, for all practical economic purposes, and the furniture industry began a coordinated effort to justify using African species of the wood.  I have a book published by the Mahogany Association, Inc., which actively promotes African woods as equal to Cuban in all aspects.   It includes a map of the regions where mahogany grows and states: "The map below indicates the only natural habitats of Mahogany trees.  Woods alleged to be Mahogany but coming from other than the regions indicated, are not mahogany.  Woods purporting to be some kind of Mahogany but not from the regions listed above, should not be accepted as Mahogany."

Remember these words when you visit your local lumber yard and try to buy mahogany today.

One of the reasons it matters, what type of mahogany you have to work with, is that Cuban mahogany is much more dense and has a much greater strength than Honduras or African woods.  Most of the Cuban trees were ancient inhabitants of the tropical forest, some as old as 400 years when they were cut down by European invaders and their slaves, some 200 years ago.  That means that the wood in my Empire table started growing some 600 years ago.  I would be surprised to know that any "mahogany" being sold these days was more than 50 years old!

As an example, last week a client brought in a Hepplewhite shield back chair from his dining room set which was nicely carved and well designed.  He had the idea that it was from 1800, but, as soon as I saw it, I complimented him on the quality of his "reproduction."  He was a little surprised and more than a little disappointed to learn that, but I patiently pointed out the various features that clearly indicated it was a reproduction.

Most of all, I said that, if it were made of Cuban mahogany, it probably would have not broken.  By making a true shield back design in Honduras mahogany, it was inevitable that it would break.  The wood does not have the strength to support the normal use that a chair sustains.

Not only was it badly broken, but it had been repaired with a combination of super glue, "the strongest glue on planet Earth," and putty.  None of that worked.  Repairing a shield back chair is one of the most challenging repairs, as the design violates all the normal strength elements of wood.  Add to that problem the difficulty of removing synthetic glues and putty and it becomes an interesting project.

It is hard to see, from the photo above, but I used elastic bands, tape, wood clamps, bar clamps, "C" clamps, and my imagination to reconstruct the chair back.  First I cleaned off all the broken surfaces, using a toothing plane and small chisels.  Then I went through the sequence of assembly, without glue, so that I clearly understood where to start.  Then I cut and attached blocks of pine where I needed to put the clamps (see my post on Vector Clamping).  Then I warmed up the room and glue and started to put it together.  Of course I used Old Brown Glue.

This project took 2 hours of preparation and nearly 30 minutes of actual assembly.

By the way, in 1976 I was quoted a price in Paris for Cuban mahogany elements of antique furniture at $6000 for a cubic meter.  That is one of the reasons I started buying the stuff.  When everything else fails, I can still break up all my furniture and sell it for scrap!

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.

Trash Treasures

About a month ago there was a New York Times article and video posted which showed the piano movers in New York picking up pianos and dropping them off at the land fill.  This video hit me hard.  It showed rosewood pianos with ebony and ivory keys, in good working condition, being crushed along with the garbage by a tractor.  There was no difference between the plastic sacks of crap and the carved rosewood legs of the piano as the tractor finished its work.

The story was that these pianos had no value.  They were being thrown out because no one wanted them.  The movers, who were professional piano movers, had been in business for almost a century in New York.  It was heart wrenching to watch their faces, as they pushed piano after piano off the end of the truck, where they landed with a crash on top of each other.

Beyond the fact that the materials used for these pianos, like rosewood and ivory, are listed on the endangered species list, and beyond the fact that these pianos represent centuries of skilled and dedicated craftsmanship, one can only despair the loss of pleasure these pianos provided for the performers and their audience.  I wonder what Beethoven would say if he were alive to see this.

I love music, both classic rock and classical.  Anything from Beethoven to Brahms or Hendrix to Floyd can provide me with the mental stimulation to work on creating something.  Some people don't seem to care much about music.  I cannot relate to that.  But, everyone has their passion, and mine is music.

When I saw a performer on the Ed Sullivan show play a violin, I decided to do the same.  I was about 12 years old then, and I was fortunate enough to have parents who could buy me an instrument and pay for lessons.  I joined the Civic Youth Orchestra and played in several orchestras over the years, growing up.  I was not the best violinist, but I was able to sit in the first chair of the second violin section, right under the nose of the conductor.  It was thrilling, how the conductor could pass out music, which we had never seen, then raise his baton and start the beat.  Out of nowhere came music!

When I was in college, I took some music classes, and the professor was a famous bass player, Bert Turetsky.  He listened to me play and said something which changed my life.  He said, "You are an average violinist.  I need a violist.  Your hands are too big for the violin.  Can you change?"  It never occurred to me to play the viola, even though I had spent years sitting in the section next to them.

I went back to my old violin teacher, Mr. Keeney, who had long since retired, and was nearly 90.  He agreed to help me and I started viola lessons.  In my senior year, Mr Turetsky selected me to play in the university quartet, and handed me a viola which was worth 6 figures to play.  We performed all year.  We spent hundreds of hours together practicing great music.  The final performance was Schubert's quintet in C major, which is one of the greatest pieces in the chamber music literature.  With repeats, it lasts 45 minutes, and you can loose yourself in the process.  As I walked off stage, at the end of the piece, Mr. Turetsky was there to take back possession of the viola.  As much as I was elated to have had the experience to play a great instrument for a year, I was crushed to have to give it up.

My wife, Kristen, plays her  cello every night.  I have two violins and a viola in the library, which I rarely play these days.  She also plays the piano which has been "rescued" from the threat of being thrown away.  We are fortunate to have the time and instruments and training to play when we want to.

That is why I needed to write this post today.  Last night, on the internet, I found a short video which made me cry and gave me hope.  Exactly the kind of emotional roller coaster that reminded me of that last performance of Schubert, over 40 years ago.  It was a teaser for a documentary which will be released sometime in the near future.

It shows a village which was built on trash, in South America.  The people in this village live by digging through the garbage, finding stuff and selling it.  Think about that for a moment, as you sip your coffee and read the paper each morning.  One day they found a broken violin in the garbage and decided to start making instruments out of the junk.  Now they have a music program, and the kids are all playing instruments which were made from the trash.

You can't believe how inspirational this is, if you love music or children or children playing music.  Take a couple minutes and watch this:

Land Fill Harmonic

Now imagine what kind of results our foreign policy would achieve, if we collected instruments that were not being used or thrown away and exported them to poor countries?  We are a rich country, and we need to share.  Send those pianos, violins, banjos, harmonicas, tubas, drums and old sheet music to the rest of the world.  Spread the music.

The landfill is no place for pianos.

Forward Into The Past!

I take this job of blogging very seriously.  One thing the internet has provided the globe with is a chance to share a virtual collective consciousness.  That is why my personal contribution is so important.  Not because I am important, but that I may, in fact, contribute to the universal search for our place in the universe.  Defining our cosmology in a way that accepts truths and supports individuality.

I have had some significant influences in my life that have contributed to my own understanding of my place in time.  Some have been superficial, like music, for example.  Coming of age and forming my persona under the sound tract of Pink Floyd, Cream, Traffic, and, most importantly, Hendrix, mixed with all night visions created by the Firesign Theatre can be very mind expanding.  (If you are old enough you recognize the title of this blog as a Firesign Theatre cut.)

If you have never heard of them, take some reflective time and close your eyes, darken the room, partake of your favorite mind altering material and just listen to the mental movies that classic Firesign Theatre stories create.

There have also been personal influences, as I have written about before.  When you seek out a "master" and sit at their feet to humbly seek their wisdom and they treat you as equals, it can be very inspirational as well as educational.  There is a rare mix of humility, knowledge and confidence that makes a student ready when the time comes to evolve into a "master" in his field of experience.  Schools try to create this with educational programs that award degrees, but that does not always guarantee success.  What is important is how you live your life and what you do with your precious time here on earth.

One of the masters I learned from came to me over the television.  The first time I turned on the Woodwright's Shop program on PBS, more than 20 years ago, and saw Roy Underhill frantically working a piece of wood into something, using only hand tools and his copious sweat and blood, I was transfixed.  Here was a guy that I could instantly relate to.  His show depicted exactly what my life was on a day to day basis.  He loved what he did.  He understood the larger implications of what it meant to work by hand, with the element of risk.  He studied and explained the old ways of working in a way that was easy to understand and appreciate.  In short, he was a true brother in arms (Dire Straits).

Over the years, I watched Roy every chance I got.  I saw him build boats, cabins, chairs, tools, spinning wheels, whistles, lathes, and every thing else under the sun.  Each episode started with him walking out of the city and into his shop in the woods.  He worked the camera in a way that made me feel he was in the room with me, talking only to me.  I often found my self talking back, having a conversation with the TV.  It felt normal and still does.

I first actually met him when I joined the American Woodworking magazine traveling show.  I know he has a lot of fans, and yet, when we met, I found him to be honest and personally interested in my perspective.  One truth about a master is that he listens.

I was honored when he asked me to present my chevalet and marquetry experience on one of his shows.  I think that was in 2008, but my memory is not clear about dates any more.  I stayed with him and his wife in Williamsburg and we had long and deeply personal conversations late into the evenings.  When we taped the show, I was able to learn a great deal from him, even though I had a fair amount of television experience in my past.  He is certainly a master at presenting information in the most entertaining way possible.

Last night, I found a TED talk which featured Roy working the crowd.  It reminded me again of his skill at public speaking, while at the same time using an axe to skillfully demonstrate traditional workmanship.  I have personally seen him do this talk on several occasions.  At one of these talks, I was the person holding up the tree, while he took swings at it.  Seeing his abilities at close range make this presentation even more remarkable.  He can place the chips from the axe exactly where he wants, much like a professional golfer can place the ball on the green.  All the time blending his act with serious information and classic bad jokes.  Each time it is fresh, and he has done this thousands of time.

As I watched the TED talk, I sensed a certain resolve in his voice.  He has been "preaching" the virtues of hand workmanship all his life.  He is the most public face in woodworking for this position.  His show is the longest running PBS "how to do it" show, and yet Norm, with all his ridiculous and expensive power tools, has much more success and fame.  When Roy describes his axe as "a piece of metal on a stick" he brilliantly illustrates his position.  That "metal on a stick" can do almost anything, if you know how to use it.  Nothing illustrates more the relationship between man and tool than that axe in the hands of a man like Roy, or the image of Norm standing in the middle of hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of power tools, trying to make a bookcase.

I was raised and trained as a scientist.  I studied and worked in the field of high energy particle physics and my degree is in Applied Physics.  I grew up immersed in the world of technology.  I saw the first computers and was born at the same time television was introduced to the world.  I watched live as the first man stepped on the moon, and the first heart transplant occurred.  As a scientist, I understand that the industrial revolution has changed not only the social and economic fabric of the past two centuries, but is now actually transforming the global climate, and that it is measurable.  We cannot continue to burn fossil fuels at an increasing rate, just to satisfy our need for mass consumption of useless objects.

Roy, in his TED talk, says, rather ironically, that he was asked to represent the "Past."  He then succeeds in pointing out that the past is still relevant today.  The past is the way of the future.  We can learn from the past and use that knowledge to mitigate our footprint on the earth.  We can, and must, transform our relationship with our home planet, by better understanding our relationship with our global assets, like food, water, and air.  If we are just custodians of this planet, what kind of message are we leaving our children if we destroy it?

I am not crazy and do not want to eliminate all technology from my life.  Living an extreme lifestyle is not the answer.  I read the book, "Be Here Now" in 1971, the same year I graduated from UCSD, and I understood what a life, in "balance" meant for personal happiness.  I still follow those guidelines.  That is why I can relate so much to Roy, and what he represents.

We all can learn from what he has to offer.  He is a national treasure.

See for yourself:
TED: Roy Underhill and his Axe

Tambour Glue

40 years ago I was the first one in San Diego to sell a roll top desk for $2500.  It was the period of Golden Oak and everyone was furnishing their houses with oak furniture.  I would drive back to Nebraska and buy a truck load.  I remember buying a dozen oak cabinet treadle sewing machines (with the machines working), numerous oak tables, both square and round, with lots of leaves to match, countless press back oak chairs, hutches and desks.  I sold them as soon as I unloaded the truck.

I was always looking for exceptional desks, and one day in Lincoln I saw this monster desk.  It was quarter sawn oak, with what looked like hundreds of small interior drawers, all different.  The outside was beautifully paneled with raised panels on all sides, even underneath where you couldn't see them.  It also had a matching chair.  This desk was so large that I could lay down on top of it and close the roll over my head.

In recent years I haven't seen a desk sell for much more than lumber, as they just are not popular any more.  Then, suddenly, three show up in my shop for repairs.  One of them was on its way to the dump and the handyman had the good sense to drive out of his way and drop it off at my shop.  Free.  The second desk was in pieces at a garage sale, and, when they couldn't sell it, they called me to see if I wanted to pick it up.  Free.  The third was a desk which was on loan to the local historic house, where it was stored in the attic office of the caretaker.  I was asked to provide a proposal for repairing this desk in 2010 and forgot about it.  Last week they called and said it had to be out by that day at 11:30.  At least that one will make me some money.

All of these desks have one problem in common:  The tambour roll is messed up.

What people don't know about a tambour desk, like a roll top, is that it needs to be used often.  When the roll is opened and closed regularly the canvas bends at each strip and flexes evenly.  When the roll is open and left in that position for a long time, there is a stress on one strip only where the sharp bend in the roll occurs at the back of the inside rack of drawers.  That one strip will then probably tear the canvas the next time it is moved.

People often try to repair these rolls with contact cement, not knowing what glue to use.  The results are predictable.

This is a typical case where the repair was made with strips of canvas glued to the old canvas with contact glue.  It did not work.

I have a system to reglue the canvas backing on tambour rolls and it works every time.  In fact, my research proves that the original makers of these tambours used protein glues modified with urea to extend the open time and provide more flexibility then hot hide glue.  That is why I find Old Brown Glue to be not only the perfect glue for this repair, but as close as possible to the original method as you can get.

I place a sheet of 3/4" plywood on the bench and clamp some strips of wood around the outside of the strips.  Make sure you are at 90 degrees so the roll slides nicely in the cabinet.  Use some weights to hold down the center of the strips and clamp some extra wood on each edge to hold them in place.

Now you can use a belt sander, with a coarse belt, to remove all the glue and canvas from the backs of the strips.  Make sure they are clean, sanding across the grain.

Take some Old Brown Glue and warm it up in a water bath.  Pour it on the strips and use a short hair paint roller to spread it evenly around.

It should look like this:

Get some heavy canvas, like you would use for a sail boat.  Cut a piece to fit the area and pour on the glue.

Spread it around evenly with the roller.

Now place the canvas, glue side down, on the surface of the tambours.  Use your hands and a veneer hammer or other roller to even out the canvas, pushing the excess glue out to the sides.  Clean up the excess with paper towels and a wet sponge, using cold water.

In simple terms, you are using the basic hammer veneering method to lay the canvas on the strips.  However, not a lot of pressure is needed, as it is working with wood veneer.  Just enough to even out the fabric and push the extra glue to the edges.

This is what it should look like when you are done.  The strip in the center, with the weights stays in place, and there are two strips of canvas which will hold the tambour together.  Let it sit overnight before you try to remove it from the plywood form.  You will find that some of the glue has leaked through the strips where there are gaps.  This is not a problem, since Old Brown Glue cleans up easily with cold water.  Just work a sponge between the strips to wipe off the glue.  Do not use too much water or you risk getting the canvas wet.  Just clean the wood with a sponge and paper towels.

One detail.  These tambours generally have a first piece (with the handles) and an end piece which are thicker than the strips that make up the tambour.  You need to glue these end pieces in a separate operation, after the tambour is assembled.  Be sure to allow surplus canvas at each end to make it possible to attach these thicker pieces.

By the way, does any one want a nice American Oak Roll Top Desk?  The roll works fine...

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!