I have always loved tools.
As a kid, I would volunteer to clean the garage without asking my Dad’s permission. Then he would get bent out of shape because he couldn’t find anything.
I didn’t understand it then, but I do now.
Tools are personal. Without the right ones, you can’t create what you see in your head.
Heck, even with the right ones, I sometimes can’t do that.
This week, all I wanted to do was make a 10-inch-long cut on a piece of plywood to make a drawer bottom. No problem, or so I thought.
First I whipped out the jigsaw. But for some reason, the blade falls out the minute it touches wood. I’ve been using that saw for over a year and never had that problem until this week. Now, no matter how firmly I ram in that saw blade, it will not stay where I put it.
So fine, I decided to use my dad’s old table saw. The blade has gotten really dull, but it was just a 10-inch cut so I figured I could power through.
After 15 seconds, I blew out the power to the power strip. So I quickly shut that down.
OK, how about my miter saw? After a few painful tugs through the wood, it was obvious that wasn’t going to work very well.
So as a last resort, I grabbed my old hand saw. I probably bought it when I bought the house and hadn’t used it since.
Now I know why.
At first grip, the plastic handle crumbled to pieces in my hand. Seriously — into tiny little plastic bits.
But there was enough to grab onto so I could finally saw my way through the rest of the board.
At least I don’t have any trouble with power sanders. One crazy day at auction, I got it into my head to buy any power tool that came up on the block. I ended up with three belt sanders and three palm sanders.
Maybe that explains where I came up with the splinter I just dug out of my index finger.