Uh-hmmm.... excuse me, esteemed galoot type folks, may
I -- no, not out on the sidewalk, down here in the
flowerbed (I've been lurking so long that I got a
part- time job with the local gardener. It's not bad
work, well, except for the time the spitoon got
tumpted over on top of me.)-- may I introduce myself?
I've been listening and learning, putting your wise
sayings to practice and I'd like to join in, on
occasion. I might even be getting to the point that I
know enough to ask a question or two -- maybe. Go from
the asters to the fillsters, so to speak.
I'm approaching fifty, kicking and screaming. My
SWMBO of twenty-eight years and I have four grown
daughters, the two oldest are SWMBOs in their own
right, and the oldest has seen fit to grace me with a
grandson - he's two now and is without a doubt the
fundamental reason that after 47 years as a reader and
dreamer, I've found myself actually building stuff,
acquiring OLD TOOLS and saying ----"I AM A GALOOT."
(thumping of fists on chest.)
I've worked for the same oil/natural gas production
company for 23 years, going from roustabout to
operator and field tech to pipe line controller. In
the process, my long suffering family lived for 10
years in east Texas (Canton, home of "First Monday
grounds" that Champ Herron wrote of a while back --
oh, if I knew then what I'm learning now about OLD
TOOLS),
two years in southwestern Wyoming, eight years in
south Texas where My work was done on platforms 15
miles out in the Gulf of Mexico. Then God smiled on
SWMBO and the girls and we've found ourselves back in
Tulsa, where we met in high school. And me a pipeline
controller, sitting in front of six screens monitoring
and controlling 13 pipelines in Ohio and Louisiana 12
hours a day or night (they rotate.) I've gone from
twisting valves in the field with a 36" valve wrench
to sitting in front of a SCADA system monitor using a
mouse to operate them from a thousand miles away.
Up to about two years ago, I've always loved to
read, and have tended up to now to read about stuff
rather than do it. I think the combination of no
longer working physically hard every day and the
arrival of "THE BOY", changed something in me.
I looked around and started thinking --I bet I could
build him toys and stuff-. So of course, I went to
the library and started reading about woodworking. And
built him a Dog That Rolls with a coping saw and a
couple of cheap tailed apprentices. (the dogs ears
were supposed to flap when he rolled, but I couldn't
get the linkage right - oh well). I bought a dr*ll
pr*ss and a b*nds*w and was unwittingly turning into a
Normite.
Then, an amazing thing happened.
On the internet, I found a place called "The
Electronic Neanderthal," which led led me to discover
Blood and Gore that had nothing to do with Horatio
Hornblower but with Patrick Leach and someone named
Stanley of all things. Next, I stumbled across a place
called the Galoots Progress, which led me to ---
THE PORCH.
And I started buying planes. And saws that didn't
make (much)noise. And chisels. Eggbeater drills. A
brace and bits (thanks, Champ). I somehow was lucky
enough to acquire a fantastic finishing plane and
left handed marking knife (left handed!) from Mr.
Knight. And going the the local hardwood supplier,
standing, just looking at the wood. I built myself a
wooden mallet from a kit. It didn't turn out perfect,
but I had fun!
I'd been holding off coming out of lurking mode
til I finished my first real piece of furniture - a
high chair for my grandson. It's done. It ain't
perfect, but SWMBO had started making snide remarks
about Jaedon not needing a high chair in high school,
so I stopped fiddling with it and declared it done.
And the boy likes it, so I'll just try to learn from
my mistake on the next high chairs--- all four
daughters are already putting in orders.
Thanks for letting me peep over the railing
and I'll try not to get too bothersome.
__________________________________________________
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