Andy's post touched a nerve, but not in a bad way. LOML & I were discussing tool use (and storage needs) this evening, and she, delicately I thought, brought up a rather expensive tool purchase I (we) made several years ago. It's a tool that I bought, with stars in my eyes, dreaming of all the wonderful things I would build.
She said she wondered at the time, if it was a good choice, but was supportive, because of my enthusiasm, and because of the creative possibilities I saw. And I asked why she hadn't objected, because I, since then, have regretted spending that amount of money on such a tool.
She said something of great insight: "I would not have limited your hope for anything. We could and have afforded the money." And I have become a much better, and better equipped, artisan. By no means perfect.
Marketers know quite well that we reach for the stars, in small steps.
She said something else, too. She said to give the Shopsmith to one of our sons, but not to sell it, or give it away elsewhere.
It is, for now, a reminder of lessons I'm learning.
There is another reminder in my office: A Titleist 990 1-iron. A reminder that you cannot buy a game, and that Lee Trevino was right.
Patriarch