My Introduction to Tools
The first tool I ever used was a little
wooden hammer. It was part of a peg
and hammer set my Aunt Rosie gave
me for my fourth birthday.
Aunt Rosie had to help me get the
wrapping paper off the package. She
had to show me how to set up the
little table with pegs protruding. She
pounded a few pegs down flat on the
table top. Before long I had hammered
all the pegs down.
Then, wonder of wonders, she turned
the table over and there the pegs were,
ready to be pounded down again. I
suppose Aunt Rosie thought I’d spend
many mindless hours pounding pegs,
turning the table over and pounding
some more.
Wrong.
Before long I was pounding table legs,
chair seats, other toys. Just in time
Mother grabbed me. She took the
tool from me, thus preserving the
coffee table glass table top.
I managed to use hammers
destructively over the years.
Unintentionally, of course.
Destruction # 1.
My dad had some knives he made
from old bandsaw blades. He cut
them to length. He ground them
down into shape. He made wooden
handles for them. He drilled holes
in the haft-side of the blade and in
the handles. He riveted the handles
in place. He sharpened the blades.
He looked upon his achievement
with pride.
Iwas proud of my dad's creativity. in
fact, I'd aeen him cut sugar cane into
one or two inch plugs with the knife
and marveled at it's sharpness. He
had created the ideal cane knife. I
could just see myself cutting the cane
into plugs. then I'd peel off the hard
outer layer. Finally, I'd toss the juice
laden pith into my mouth.
You chew ine cane, squeezing the
delicious sweet juice from it with your
molars. at first, until you got the hang
of it, juice would seep out the sides of
your mouth. It eould run down eachb
side of your chin. Then it would drip
down on your T-shirt. Your mama
would always declare, "I don't know
how you get your shirts so dirty. I know
she "declared" it becaseas often as not
she would preface her statement with,
"I declare . . . ."
But back to the toolos. What do you do
when you arenr strong enough to cut up
the plugs with hand strengrh alone? I'll
tell you what I did.
I placed the sharp edge of one of Dad's
creations on a piece of sugar cane. I
struck it with a hammer. The blade
broke in two.
Destruction # 2
One day I was playing croquet with my
Uncle Carroll. I had just turned thirteen.
He was one year, one month and twelve
days older than me. But we were about
the same size.
We soon tired of conventional croquet.
"Let’s see who can hit one of those
wooden balls they furtherest with these
mallets," he suggested.
He was stronger than me. He was a
farm boy. I was an eleven-year-old city
slicker. I lived in metropolitan Beaufort,
population fifteen hundred.
But it was a challenge. I agreed.
"You go first," he said.
I did. And I won.
You see, he was standing next to me,
his head right in the path of the
swinging mallet.
Destruction # 3.
In my high school years, my dad and
I built a house in his hometown,
Slabtown, Maryland.
Saying that we built the house is like the
flea saying, "We really shook that bridge
when the elephant and I crossed it."
But, I did drive some nails. The last
thing we did before finishing the
interior was the roof. Dad wanted the
house closed in so we could work on
the interior in spite of inclement
weather. I helped finish the roof. We
completed the last row of asbestos
shingles.
Dad said, "Let’s go down and get
something to eat."
Eat? You bet. My favorite part of the
work day.
I tossed my hammer over the edge of
the roof and headed for the ladder. I’d
taken perhaps the better part of a half-
step when I heard the clinking of
breaking glass.
I’d thrown my hammer right through
panes in three window sashes setting
against a sawhorse waiting to be set in
place.
Moral of the Stories
The point of all this is that tools
created for good use can be misused.
Often unintentionally.
This is as true for computer tools as
for a broadaxe.
Next time, I’ll look at some of these
dangers.
Meanwhile, check out this amazing tool.
http://lovelylizards.com
