My World of Wood

There's no cute titling in my world. As a working lad, working with other men, there was no space for image and pretence. You just made. I'm glad for that now. They didn't take any truck from young bucks but gave everything they knew to those who were well-mannered and respectful. These men polished their leather-soled, black boots before they left home, wore a neck tie and collar, a jacket with large gaping pockets and covered their good pants with bib-and-brace overalls and when they rode their bikes home or rode the bus they looked, well, wholesome. We all wore the same. Looking back, these men gave me everything I would need to become an independent person working in my own right. We laughed quite a bit at my mistakes, and I was the brunt of their amusement for a while, but then the day came when my work worked, came together, could be relied on and such like that. In the years that followed, that solid foundation equipped me to live the life of an artisan; very little has come along to replace or displace what they taught me. In fact, I would say just about nothing.

I think we all know the issues we face today. Yesterday I wrote this and put it on my Facebook page:

I decided to take early retirement

So I could do more woodworking

Everyone thought I was mad

Looked at me like I’d just grown two heads

That was sixty years ago in 1965

I was just fifteen when I grabbed the chance

With both hands

Who could blame me

Never worked a day since

Thank God I came to my senses

It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity

Here are a couple of the 30 or more responses:

"If I could start over, I would want to do what you did."

"I think a lot of people would like to do the same, including me. I must find a solution to pay our mortgage to do the same."

"I wished that I would have had a traditional apprenticeship as a youngster like you did (all but disappeared now)."

"You really loved "not to work”."

what a great way to tell that you loved your work."

I was raised differently. You see, I didn't know that I couldn't do what I did it so I did it. Becoming independent as a maker in a world that is ever-shrinking wasn't so easy for me as people might think, but with an imagination enough to design and make and with my hands doing 98% of the work beit the opening lines of the sketched idea or the lifting of the piece for final delivery, I was able to step out of the mould and define my lifestyle.

Most people have no need to do that, but I am grateful for the last 30 years, when everything I was taught in that last century has graduated into the lives of those living their 21st version.

Of course, it is saddening to see and feel the lamenting voices of those who would and could have made had they too had the opportunity.