Digested

Thinking of tools and craftsmen has brought back to mind some stories. Discussing my trade with an older gentleman who had an interest in refrigeration, he asked what tools I had. I described my meager tool collection (embarrassingly so considering the money I make out of them), and he asked whether I had the Whamo-Gizmo-Super-Duper something or other which he considered the cat's meow of tools. I said that I didn't need that, and it probably would be more of a nuisance. He was offended, and in his eyes I had shown my incompetence. My father is a craftsman, a carpenter with vast experience and knowledge, and an equally vast collection of tools. He had a garage that was full of tools and materials, with no apparent order. I would borrow a tool to do something, and would put it back in the garage, usually on the first horizontal surface that I found. Invariably a few days later Dad would ask where did I put the tool that I borrowed. He knew where everything was, and was quite productive in his work. When I started working in construction, I used an inexpensive hammer. At the end of the day my hand was sore, my arm stiff. I purchased a good hammer, and was surprised a how much better it felt. The best tools are those that allow me do what I can't do and don't get in the way of what I can. Derek