I’m going to need new business cards, After completing my pre-glue test fit, I realized I’m not just a “Builder” anymore. I’ve gone vertical, so I must be a “Developer.” My basement projects have consumed all the available horizontal space. Anything more and you might see me featured on an episode of “Hoarders.” Is anyone else amazed at the kind of crap people will watch on TV? Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not exactly what you’d call “highbrow.” My wife has been training the Oconomowoc hillbilly out of me for 35 years, with limited success. But come on, “Moonshiners!?” When subtitles are necessary to understand a show’s characters who are speaking something that resembles English, that might be a good indication of a waste of time.
Back to development. As is typical with construction projects, my staging was a bit off. An unforeseen problem with my Sitka supply chain left me one board short. Not wanting to idle my high-priced labor and delay progress, I charged ahead with the available materials. Fast forward to today, and I’ve got a mostly completed frame, but nowhere to glue up my second side board. Hmm…what would a Developer do? Yes, that’s it, bring in the crane and scrape the sky!
At this point in my build, my mechanical equipment was collecting dust, so why not put it to use? With my Harken powered crane in place, I hoisted my frame out of the way and created the space I needed to glue up my second sideboard. Whoa…and when I cut her loose from the oppressive chains of the building table, if she didn’t go into an immediate hike, like she was rounding the top mark in a blow! This frozen filly may be a hard one to tame. Daniel Hearn
I’ve been receiving AARP mailings now for 8 years. To add to the insult, it started before I even officially hit the big 5-0. It’s a mystery how they even found me. When we were hunting Bin Laden, we should have put them on the case. If you were born before seat belts were required, they know where you are.
As we get older maybe we do get stuck in our ways. I’ve been shaving the same way for decades. Good News Plus razors with the lubrication strip and the cheapest cream on the shelf. Two blades were always good enough for me, and as far as I was concerned, any white cream would do the job. But shampoo? Nothing but the best for me. Not for what the fancy fluids do for my locks, though I’m sure you’ve noticed the sheen, bounce and manageability. But because when my daughters were all home, they would move on to the next miracle liquid before the last one was gone. I may have a lifetime supply of wounded soldiers. And I smell like a sorority house.
Before Amazon, my wife picked up my shaving supplies at an actual store. Now they’re delivered to my door with a single click. Making it easy has made Jeff Bezos 158.1 billion. But now Harry’s has made it even easier. And better. I don’t even have to click. Not one time. The blades just show up when I need them. They’re probably using a top secret algorithm to calculate the precise speed of my facial hair growth and the corresponding life span of each blade, based the Rockwell rating of my whiskers and my shaving frequency. I may be on the cutting edge of shaving (I’m slightly embarrassed about that pun), but I’m at the dull center of fashion. I still wear socks with my dress shoes. And see no need to sport pants so short that my ankles show. Who decided “floods” were a “look?” Plus, MY suit jackets actually fit ME. When did it become fashionable to look like the “oops” of a Catholic family–the boy who was last in line to wear the First Communion suit, when he was much taller than his older brothers at the same age.
The razors from Harry’s have like 17 blades and they stay sharp for a long time. MBAs who want to sound smart would call this a “core competency.” Me, well, my MBA is a Mop Bucket Attitude, so I’m thinking they should get into runners. Perfectly profiled and optimally sharp (or dull) for the upcoming conditions, delivered right to my door the day before the regatta is even called “ON”. This may be the next move for Amazon. I’d better call a patent attorney to protect my “intellectual property.” When you charge $900/hr., you have to use expensive words. Translation for those of you with an MBA like mine—my “good idea.” If I don’t, Amazon, Google or Apple will most certainly steal my good idea. And I think they’ve got enough money.
All the DN planks I’ve built were “close enough” planks. I’d bend them up following all the conventional wisdom, then start eyeball hand-planing until I thought they looked cool. Then I’d add glass in search of deflection that would match what the fast guys said would be calibrated to my weight, and called it good. But with my C-Skeeter project, I thought I needed to break from my old ways. So, the first thing I did was look up NACA foils. I don’t even know what that stands for, but I stumbled upon the section with foil shapes that were neither lifty or draggy. (These are highly technical terms beyond the scope of this recap). I sized one to the width of my plank, built a router jig to create shape reference cuts, estimated the declining depth of my cuts to account for the ½” tapering of the plank from inboard to outboard, then made lots of sawdust. Not as precise as a CNC router, but a sophisticated shave for me!
MICHIGANDER on Pewaukee Lake for the 2018 Wisconsin Stern Steerers Association championship.
The biannual magazine from the makers of “what holds us together”, Gougeon’s (West Systems) Epoxy Works, highlights one of the finest Class A stern-steerers ever crafted, Eric Sawyer’s MICHIGANDER. Get a free print or digital subscription to the magazine here.
I’ve never done any metal fabrication to speak of. My few attempts with a hacksaw and general purpose drill bits always led to cussing and much shorter bits. But look at me now! I’m cranking out metal like Ozzie with a mountain of Marshalls. He might even give me a bro-nod. Not familiar? Spend some time on any college campus. It’s a form of “subtle” acknowledgement, when you’re too cool to acknowledge anything. Popularized by privileged, white males who grew up in McMansions in the suburbs, but still think the persona gives them street cred. Usually executed with the head slightly cocked to the side, squinted eyes and a subtle backwards tipping of the head. Often paired with the word, “yo.”
OK, so far, my functional and artistic output has only been from aluminum stock, but for a guy with metal phobia, my therapist tells me we’ve just had a breakthrough. And my sponsor, Pat, has been like a cheerleader at a wrestling match—appreciated by the singlet-clad gladiator, but sort of awkward for everyone else. “Gimme a G, gimmie an R, gimmie an I, gimmie an NDR…Grinder…Grinder…will take you far! Man, I can send the shards flying when I hear that one!
With all this encouragement, I may be getting over confident. I’m throwing around terms like 6061-T6, 304 SS, needle bearing, naval bronze, #10 rivet nut, and more into casual conversation. And I just ordered a pair of steel-toed Red Wings and purchased the bulk pack of Gojo with the convenient, dispensing pump. Livin’ large!
Not sure my confidence will extend to stainless, though. I tried to machine stainless once. As in “once-upon-a-time” or “one-time-only.” Your choice. I may have to call on Izzy the metal wizard. He left Oz some years ago and is rumored to live near Pewaukee. Locals say he grew tired of uninvited guests showing up wanting help with this and that. And that the roads were annoyingly bumpy. Some believe him to be Mark Isabell, the DN and A-Skeeter guy, but of course, no one has ever seen the Wizard. Legend has it that he’s got this magical machine he keeps behind the curtain that can cut metal with water. Yeah, I know, right…cutting metal with water? That sounds plausible. Not! But maybe that’s why he’s the Wizard?
