Looking for Mister Good-chips
Home improvement. You’ve got to love it.
I’m building bookshelves today. Three sets of tall 5 shelf bookshelves. I need more separate shelving to make the whole structure more practical for shelving DVD’s, videos, and books, but Walmart didn’t have them. Have to wait until next week, when I can get to Canadian Tire, (up here we call it Crappy Tire), to get extra separate shelves. (hopefully). But today is a day off, so I’m up to my arse in particle board, (a lovely image), pretending I know what I’m doing.
I used to do this for a living. Spent three years in a furniture factory making IKEA furniture. Swedish modern modular furniture. My favorite toy was a double bladed table saw that was used for cutting those skinny little strips of particle board that go beneath the bottom shelf. Kickplate, it’s called. I’d pass a stack of particle board, or laminated wood, through a pair of tablesaw blades, (about 18″ in diameter), with sometimes as little as four or five inches on each side of my hand of clearance between safety and sudden amputation. The chunks of wood that got sawed off would frequently wedge between the blade and the table and fly out like bullets, maybe forty or fifty feet, all day, like standing in a shrapnel shower. They called it the Death Machine, and it looked like something out of Death Race 2000 mating with The Mangler.
I loved that beast and hated it. I had to wear the equivalent of a welder’s helmet, and a large leather apron, (anyone ever seen that movie The Exterminator?, with the guy who drove around in a garbage truck, cooked crooks with a flame thrower, and wore a similar get-up?). Because of the helmet, my hair had to go, every summer. Three times in my life I had my head shaved. I looked nasty with a bald head. I’ve got a real kind of “fuck-you” skull, not pointy or pasty. If I ever want to look like a thug, I just have to shave my head, and there I am. The bouncer at any dive in the seedy universe.
(aw, come on – humor me)
Speaking of which I cut my hair the other day, or rather, I had a hairdresser do it for me. It’s shrank from being halfway down my back to barely shoulder length. It’s been years since it’s been this short, but the winter air was playing hell with it, and I haven’t been keeping proper care of it, so I decided it had to go.
To heck with it. I still look sexy. Muscles like a young Eastwood, Newman eyes, and a really wonderous bathroom mirror. (grin)
Well, I’ve escaped long enough. I’ve built one shelf, and I need to finish two more. They won’t build themselves while I’m sitting down here on my comfortable butt.
Yours in horror,