Sorry in advance if this thing has turned into a philosophical rant and no, I'm not getting too old. In fact, I'll be 35 tomorrow. Perhaps I'm just too jaded by too much time relaxing by myself in the shop.
I went to the Portland Woodworking Show this weekend, hoping to be the proverbial kid in a candy store, hoping to see great techniques and new products and beautiful work. I was hoping to pick up a new hand plane, get some pointers, meet some fellow woodworkers, play with some tools.
What I saw, instead, was a carnival of consumption. Man, that sounds ridiculous, but it was true. This was my first woodworking show, and I expected less flash and pizazz and headsets and "Buy now! Easy terms!" and more...heck, I don't know what I expected. It wasn't what I found.
The saddest thing for me was watching all the demos of the latest, greatest gimmick to make your woodworking life a breeze. Everything from auto-carving machines and $20k laser engraving machines to $5 pieces of foam rubber for your clamp pipes. I listened to a sales pitch for 5 minutes for a $300 miter sled that would "eliminate the need to make test cuts". Yeah, that's right. A $300 miter sled. "HOW MUCH MONEY DO YOU THINK YOU'LL SAVE BY..." seemed to be the mantra everywhere. Everyone was busy signing up for this raffle or that special offer, dragging around new tool catalogs or that 50 lb. bundle of Taiwanese sandpaper. It was like one big Harbor Freight sale. Loads of $15 Forstner sets or $30 paneling bit sets. None of it to last beyond the first use, if that.
I tried to talk with the Lee Valley and Veritas guys about a new plane - my wife said I should pick out any plane in the place as a birthday present - but my heart wasn't in it. I picked them up and played with them a bit on some scraps they had around, but the noise, the hawking, seeing guys hunched over, running for their cars loaded down with bags of crap to go home and throw at their latest project just took the wind out of my sails. My wife and 12-year old were trying to be supportive, but they, too, looked like they were miserable. It was a far cry from what woodworking evokes in me, most days. I left empty-handed, but with a new respect for my own experience woodworking.
It really made me sad for everyone else, though. For me, woodworking is relaxing, enjoyable pastime. It's the sound of a newly sharpened gouge singing on a bowl or a single sneeze in an otherwise silent shop from too much hand sanding. Or standing back with a cup of coffee and admiring joinery you finally got juuuuust right. The different sounds the different table saw blades make when they're spinning up or down. That first dab of oil on a project you've spent hours or weeks on.
I don't know. Maybe it's different for guys who try to make a living creating things, and maybe that's who the show was aimed at. Plenty of us have more money than sense, (I'll place myself at the head of that line!) but maybe those few seconds you'd save with this new sandpaper technology or that new Incra gauge (now with flip-down stop!) or that new bandsaw blade guide that lets you make a reindeer out of a 2x4 in 4 seconds flat, and STILL be able to touch the blade immediately afterwards! (My son said what I was thinking, "That reindeer looks stupid, and why is he touching the blade?") But perhaps, someone who's trying to make 2400 reindeer a day needs to be able to keep the blade cool and reduce wear? It all seemed so consumptive and anxious and hectic. Full of "improvements" but not full of heart.
I understand that everyone there needs to make money. They're in business to do just that. I guess I was hoping and thinking that maybe we were, as a community, above all of that, at least at some small level. There was just this pervasive feeling of desperation...a need to save time, save money, save materials, work faster, cleaner and get more out of your day.
There seemed to be no place for the jig made from scraps, or sharpening on sandpaper, or a nice simple, clean finish with a rag. Where's the joy? Where's the ingenuity? Where's the common sense? It all seemed lost amidst the portable HVLP sprayers and Kreg display bigger than my shop. Gimmicks and doodads were everywhere, all designed to speed the process of creation and cut down on your time in the shop, which is some of my most precious time. Now why would I cut down on that?
Maybe I'm alone in this feeling, maybe I need to relax and not worry about the state of this wonderful hobby out in the rest of the world and just enjoy my own little world. Besides, I need another cup of coffee and to brush another coat of lacquer on that bowl.