The curse of the Band Saw


It was not the lost fingers and spilled blood, about which I had been generously warned by many friends when the word got around I had a new band saw.

The cuirse of the band saw was more subtle.

When I finished the backbreaking task of assembling, positioning, squaring, trueing, aligning and level the bugger, and cleaning off the preservative on the cast-iron table and waxing the surface down, the creature was beautiful. It stood tall, a proud testament to American ingenuity and design, gleaming in the dusty garage workshop,It made the whole garage, with its used and bruised tools and collections of stuff look shamefully out of date.

So I have spent the last two days cleaning and hauling and re-ordering every godam thing in the garage. It now looks lovely, with the band saw as centerpiece.

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