Last week, when I was at the shop working on a project, it struck me how time and experience cause us to look differently at things. I have an old Delta lathe of my father’s that I was considering replacing and moving to a new piece of equipment. Then the memories set in. Although Dad passed away when I was only eight, I remember standing on a stool in order to be tall enough to reach the work piece and him teaching me how to sand bowls. I remember learning that if you pushed too hard on the sandpaper it would get really hot and burn your fingers. I even remember the smells and splatters that came from using a sock and oil to finish products. How could I possibly even consider replacing this piece of equipment?
The interesting thing about this lathe is that it was originally set up as a production machine, with very little variability in the speed of the work. When I was learning to turn in a high school shop class, I learned to do rough work in the 300 rpm which wasn't possible on the lathe that I had at home. So, what would a teenager to overcome this? Well, go to the Sears & Roebuck catalog for a solution. I added another set of pulleys and a shaft to create a way to vary the speed. It worked great. In fact, as I rebuild this project, I will do the same thing all over again, only this time I will use much better components; ball bearing pillow blocks and precision ground shafts. The result will give me the same type of functionality though.
Now that I've talked about my project of the week, let’s get to what it caused me to think about. As I was dismantling the lathe, I found the installation shown in the photo. As a kid, I determined I should use lead anchors in the lathe bed to attach everything. When I made the first hole, I chose too large a drill bit and the anchor actually fell through the hole I created. What was a young woodworker to do? This young woodworker nailed a bunch of small brads all around the anchor to hold it steady. At the time it was a perfect solution and I am sure that I stood back and looked at it and congratulated myself on overcoming this problem, but today it is simply unacceptable.
As I looked at what I had done, and of course considered how I would overcome the same problem today, I was struck by how our view of things changes over time, in both directions. In this case, the quicker, less elegant way had been fine since the results would never be seen … at least not for forty years or so. In my life, as a younger person, this was often the case. If the solution fixed the problem, even if it was less than complete or not the “prettiest” way to fix something, that was okay. Function WAY outweighed form. Now I feel much differently about things. I take more of a long view; in my personal and my professional work. When I do things today, I think about how others might look at my work, possibly after I am no longer around, judging the kind of workman I was by that work product alone.
In this story, I get to explain why I did what I did and the fact that at this point I would never arrive at that solution again. But, if you were just to find the work that I had done many years ago, you would question the person who was involved. I do not ever want that to be the case. What this has done for me in the last few years is to cause me to strive to do better work. Things that I cannot do at a high level, I move on and leave to someone else who is more qualified. I think the long view of the world can push us in one of two ways; do it better than ever or just not care since in the long run it doesn't matter.
I, for one, want the things I have accomplished and created to be appreciated for decades to come, so I continue to learn and hone my skills.
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