my dad and his tools

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he has degenerative arthritis....literally wore out the cartilage in his joints from working
"If you are arrogant, who's going to care if you're the best?"
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Yep I'm there now, in my knees. Beat the shit out of them for years and they a FUBAR now, Right knee had the arthroscopic already left knee is close they told nme the cartilidge in the right knee is just about gone, Next step is full knee replacement which is something that is made in a Machine shop, spring and all, I said screw it ! no Not the knee, the surgery

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Gal next door has one hip, both knees replaced and recently had back surgery. She stands MUCH straighter than before but has still some to go before straight up. Demeanor MUCH improved!

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yep, I have a friend that is on her 3rd set of hips (technology was not as good 15 years ago) when they are new, she has no trouble getting around. they make enough difference that she continues to have the surgery.
BRuce
Bobnospam1 wrote:

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BRuce


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Last week a friend of mine, on a camping trip with his wife, dropped his drawers and squatted a la wild-bear-in-the-woods. On the way up, after finishing his business, he dislocated his recent hip replacement surgery, couldn't move from the position, or the results of same, and had to start hollering until the whole campground came running to see what the ruckus was about ... took 45 minutes and 3 EMT's to get him out of the woods.
If his friends can help it, he ain't gonna ever live that down!
--
www.e-woodshop.net
Last update: 9/21/03
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LOL, friends, what would we do without them!
BRuce
Swingman wrote:

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BRuce


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Well said! I lost my Dad when I was in my 30's before I really got into woodworking. Missed my chance and like you said, I'd give everything I have to spend time with him.
--
Larry C in Auburn, WA

"Jwemes" < snipped-for-privacy@aol.comnospam> wrote in message
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mel wrote:

Wow, that's sad. :(
I'm going through something similar with my grandfather right now. He's pushing 90, and I can beat him at arm wrestling and checkers pretty much at will. It breaks my heart. I'm not *supposed* to be able to beat him at arm wrestling or checkers. I'm not supposed to even be in the same league as him.

I see Dad every day that I'm not on the road. My kids spend at least 3/4 of their non-school hours at my parents' house. One of the reasons I was never willing to move to find a better job. I drive a truck so my kids have their grandparents, more than anything else.
I *am* thankful for my parents. I'm dreading the day when they're not around anymore. I'll be all alone, except for my wife.
Well, here's to hoping that doesn't happen for many years to come.
--
Michael McIntyre ---- Silvan < snipped-for-privacy@users.sourceforge.net>
Linux fanatic, and certified Geek; registered Linux user #243621
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Silvan notes:

Your kids should still be available, unless they all leave the area. But you maybe need to get your ass out and make some friends who share your interests.
Charlie Self
"Analyzing humor is like dissecting a frog. Few people are interested and the frog dies of it." E. B. White
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Charlie Self wrote:

Yeah, that's a double-edged sword there. I want them to stay around, but I know from my own experience that just about the only way to find a job paying any money, or demanding any kind of higher education, is to be willing to relocate wherever you can find a job.
It's the way the economy works these days. Most people move many times; sometimes out of a desire to get more money, and other times just to keep a job. It's practically unheard of for people to still live in the county where they were born at the age of 30.
I live less than two miles from the hospital where I was born, and all my moves have been within the town of Christiansburg. My wife, OTOH, left her whole family behind to move up here with me. Even she isn't an exception to the new rule.

No time for friends. I've tried. People don't like to hear "Well, yeah, sure, we can go do something next Thursday if I don't go to Asheville, but if I go to Asheville then we might have to do something next Friday, unless I go to Raleigh or Winterville next Friday. Then there's the following Monday, unless I go to Savannah."
It just doesn't work out for long. That's why I like usenet. You guys are always here whenever I catch an opportunity to hang out, even if you were actually here seven hours ago.
--
Michael McIntyre ---- Silvan < snipped-for-privacy@users.sourceforge.net>
Linux fanatic, and certified Geek; registered Linux user #243621
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SNIP of a great story
My dad died in 1995. It took a couple of years before my mother was able to allow my siblings and I to "use" his stuff. Being the only woodworker in the group, I took home most of these type tools. My brother took home the carpentry type stuff (i.e. I got the Shopsmith, he got the RAS and wormdrive saw, etc.). Included in the items I received was an old Stanley transitional coffin plane ( a 122 I think). Not a real big deal and I cleaned it up and sharpened it and it worked OK, but the mouth is too wide and it is hard to adjust properly, yadda, yadda. It was some time later that I found out that this plane is basically the only thing my dad had that had once belonged to his father. His father had died in 1928 when he (my dad) was 8 (and he was the oldest of 5 kids). Growing up fatherless in the backwoods of West Virginia during the Depression, it is lucky he still was able to hold onto that. That plane has a whole new meaning now. It gets used now and then for an important project - usually something for my mom or other immediate family member. It tends to slow down the project though as I find it necessary to sit and ruminate awhile whenever it comes out for use.
Dave Hall
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<Snip of another great family heirloom story>
Now that's a perfect use of a tool like that Dave! It might not be the best tool functionally, but when you can let your family know that it was made partly with that old plane it's going to be even more special to them.
--
Larry C in Auburn, WA


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Really great thread. I'm an occasional lurker and frequent Googler for tips on various topics, but I had to weigh in on this one. My dad died in 1986 (seems like yesterday) and I have a lot of his mechanics and woodworking tools and many that were handed down to him by my mom's dad. (As a matter of fact, I'm tearing up the garage right now looking for his old countersink bit because I like it better than any I've seen at HD). I spent thousands of hours by his side from the time I was old enough to hold a screwdriver until his death 20 years later. I can remember him teaching me to mark and complete a straight cut with a crosscut saw and the pride I felt when he decided I was old enough for the circular saw. I really enjoy using those tools and feel happily close to dad and Pop-Pop in the process.
Thanks dad, for the lessons in life and in the shop!!!
Happy Thanksgiving to all!!!
Tom Murphy
snipped-for-privacy@nhsd.k2.pa.us (David Hall) wrote in message

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On 24 Nov 2003 15:23:05 -0800, tom snipped-for-privacy@comcast.net (Tom Murphy) wrote:

You guys are all lucky. I love my dad dearly, but I'm a first generation "mechanic". My father is much more interested in golf than woodworking, mechanical things, etc... I was never able to share these things. I have much more control over a tool than a driver. <G>
Barry
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Lost my father to cancer a few months ago. He was 61. I found out that he left his woodworking tools to me - each tool is a priceless memory.
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I too lost mine a few months ago. He was a great man and I never met a person who didn't like him. He knew allot but . . .we all laughed because mechanical aptitude was not his strong suit (and that's being kind). His tool collection consisted of about 5 old paint slopped screwdrivers and a cheap pair of pliers and I'm not sure he cared to master anything more - just kept them on hand for someone else who might need them. Funny thing, I have those old screwdrivers now and I reach for them first when I need one.
Don

he left

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I'm sorry for your lose. I lost my father just a bit over a year ago (he passed away on his 79th B-day)
My father was an electrician by trade, but he loved to work with wood.
Never thought much about what he accomplished when I was growing up.
I inherited the house and most of the contents, but part of the deal with settling the estate, was if any other family member wanted anything from the house, they were welcome to it.
In the last few years, My father had finially started to spend some of the money he had saved, and bought several new power tools such as a new bandsaw, a planer, drill press, well you get the idea. I grew up learning to use an old Craftsman Table saw. A few years ago Dad finially bought another table saw from our next door neighbor (a Carpenter by trade) when the neighbor bought himself a new TS. The one Dad bought from him is an old early 40's I think Delta combination 10" tilting table TS and 6" jointer. Still runs great.
Anyway...
When my neice came over to see if there was anything in the house she might be interested in, she brought her husband and kids. She picked out a China cabinet and several memento's that had been in it. The husband however went straight to the workshop (Husband is around 35 or so, no workshop and a garage to fuul of crap to put a car in or use as a workshop).
He came back later with a brother and a trailer, and took the Bandsaw (about 2 years old), the planer (Dewalt, about 3 years old), Floor standing Drill Press, several routers, and on and on. It broke my heart to see them go especially to someone who will probably not give them a good home, but that was part of the conditions of th estate.
When it came to the tablesaw, that's when I told him he had taken enough and I was keeping that.
As I move back into the house I grew up in over 50 years ago, I look around and finially realize just how must work Dad did. (the house is and 1950 vintage 'bungalow', full basement, 1 1/2 story)
He fully finished off the 1/2 story attic by himself so us three boys could have a bedroom. He did it all in knotty pine, with a cedar closet, window seat, built in desks, etc. He finished off the basement by himself as well.
In his later years, he turned to making jewelry boxes and gave them to everybody. He also started to find old lumber from various places and re-used the wood to make furniture.
Now the furniture is not perfect by a long shot, but he made it....
Over the last few weeks, I've been going through the workshop, sorting and cleaning, and trying to find a place for my tools as well.
As I look at the workbench, I now see it in a different way than I did as a child who sat there making pinewood derby cars or melting a whole roll of solder with a soldering iron (yes an iron and not a gun) just to watch it melt into a pool on the workbench. I look at how it was built, and see the simple but strong joints. I notice it's made out of what appears to be old 2x6's for the top. I have no idea how old it is. I don't know if Dad made it (I remember it always being there) or if it came from his father.
I see the top of it that shows at least 50 years of nicks, gouges, burn spots (from the solder) and paint spills.
I breifly think of building a new one or replacing the top at least, and I realize I could never do that. The bench stays just the way it is.
As I go through a set of drawers lining one wall that my dad built a long time ago, I see all the tools I grew up with, some are tools my dad got from his father, some he bought. Some are high quality tools, some are junk. Some are well kept, while others have seen better days. I remember them all
My neices husband may have taken more than his share of the bigger, newer tools, but I have the better ones.
The memories as they say are priceless

he left

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Timothy Drouillard wrote:

Of all the posts in this thread there is only one I can truly relate to.
Pop was in his mid 30's when I came along and died at 53 of an aneurysm when I was 19. Grandfather died when I was 8. Maternal Grandfather went before I was born.
I am so absolutely frigging jealous of you people who had their fathers and grandfathers through those transition years between teens and mature manhood , I don't think many of you could understand.
That being said, the father in law died on the 16th at age 79 of cancer. I've known he was failing for a few years. The family got to say goodby, to make their peace.
I have a 27 year old brother in law who crawled into a bottle on the 14, the night Thomas was taken to the hospital for the last time. This is a mistake I'm all to familiar with.
Today's Thanksgiving. There's the big thing at the sister in laws house. Full blood Italian family from the Old Country.
It's going to be an interesting day.
Far as my Father (a JOAT) and his tools, I hated being the indentured servant while growing up but now am grateful for the lessons learnt.
--
Mark

N.E. Ohio
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"Timothy Drouillard"

might
(about
Hey, we have the same niece! My FIL promised me his tools and the '64 Chevy that was cherry with 30,000 original lightly driven (always garaged) miles. She wrecked the car and her husband sold the tools for beer money.
Fortunately, I have a couple of things that have good memories also. I can always buy tools. Ed
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Edwin Pawlowski wrote:

Got that right! The memories are important, but it's also important not to let a boob like that ruin your life. My brother (who has been in/out of rehab for hard drug use) stole a bunch of my father's tools when he was sick with cancer. I let it ride, even though that affected me as well as my dad. Dad's gone now, but I will have to be around my brother for many decades to come. One thing to be grateful for, he has begun to reexamine his life and make some good decisions for a change. And when he talks about dad, he's proud! "My dad did this... my dad did that..." If dad had known that his death would finally straighten my brother out, he would have volunteered. He was that kind of father - would have thrown himself onto a hand grenade for a stranger.
'Appy Thanksgiving, all!
James
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