Ever since I was a little kid I’ve zeroed in on building tools.
Back in those days girls were not even allowed to take wood shop –
something no one blinks an eye at now – much less actually work
with tools.
Ever since I was a little kid I’ve zeroed in on building tools. Back in those days girls were not even allowed to take wood shop – something no one blinks an eye at now – much less actually work with tools. Oh, it was acceptable for us to pound in a nail to hang a picture or turn an occasional loose screw, but for the most part it was expected that females were ignorant when it came to basic building techniques.
My own father gave me mixed messages when it came to working with tools.
In the early 1960s he opened his own machine shop. An electrical engineer and son of a automotive garage owner, my dad’s motive wasn’t a true interest in running a machine shop. Earlier, the company my dad worked for relocated to the Midwest. He liked California and didn’t want to uproot the family, plus he’d just taken some courses on computer software engineering. So after some checking around, he bought a computer-operated precision drilling machine (one of two in California at the time), got some contracts from NASA and set up shop.
By the time I was 9 I’d been taught to use a drill press, table saw and several hand tools. Yet no matter how much I begged my dad to teach me how to use the wood lathe in our garage at home, I was ignored. My brother got to make cool miniature baseball bats, wooden ducks and lamps. I was relegated to drilling holes or cutting edges on fiberglass fittings. My protests fell on deaf ears.
When I got my driver’s license at 16, my dad stepped in and insisted I learn to use a few more tools, specifically a tire jack.
“What will you do if you get a flat tire away from home?” my father would ask.
“I’ll stand by the side of the road looking helpless,” I’d reply.
“What if you’re on a deserted road?” He’d counter.
“I’ll be standing there a long time,” I’d acknowledge.
I learned to use a tire jack, check the water and oil, even drain the radiator, but I never got to use the wood lathe.
When I got married, my desire to work with wood only increased. Now I was an adult; no one could stop me. So I started asking for a jigsaw every Christmas and birthday. Maybe because my husband observed the not-so-perfect results of many craft projects, he steadily ignored my request.
When the kids came along I built fancy toy boxes and shelves for their rooms. I had some basic knowledge of skil saws and sewing had taught me how to measure. OK, so I didn’t have the training I needed to work with wood. The toy boxes turned out okay. The shelves had a bit of a problem as they would lean drastically to one side. I solved that by placing the leaning side against a flat wall and pounding in some very large nails.
The shelves are there as long as the house stands.
I never have found the time to learn the woodworking skills I dreamed of so long ago. To a working mother of four, spare time is something of a luxury. But I do watch shows where the experts show you how to put mail slots in solid front doors, replace the tile on entrance way floors or build a mother-in-law house out back. Not that I dream of attempting any of these projects, but who knows, one of these days some of this information might come in handy.
And I still find myself attracted to tools. When the September 2002 issue of “Popular Science” came out, there were two pages devoted to “The Techiest Toolbox.” The brightly colored pictures included such unique items as the American Tool Strait-Line Laser, the Craftsman Self-Adjusting Pliers and the Stanley Proto Ratcheting Flex Wrench. Wow, a great way of combining good old-fashioned tool knowledge with today’s high-tech world.
I may never get around to becoming a hobbyist carpenter. But I can still get excited about what’s new in the world of tools. And if nothing else, it constantly gives me ideas of things to ask for at Christmas, Mother’s Day and my birthday.
