Shop Apron Lament
When I was working as an all-purpose special effects shop monkey in 1997, some guy came through the industrial park where I worked selling denim shop aprons for five bucks apiece. Unlike most of the peddlers that made the rounds periodically, this one had a useful product at a good price, and he sold quite a few aprons to us that afternoon.
Mine was quickly besmirched with paint, bondo, resin, cyanoacrylate, and all manner of other unhealthy substances. I probably could have pointed to each stain and told you which project it had come from.
When I left the shop for my first real full-time web design job, I took my apron with me, but living as I did in an aparment I didn't have any real use for it at home, and it spent most of the next 4 years in the storage space above our parking spot.
I think it was in a box of junk in the trunk of my 1966 Mustang when we left California. The Mustang was left behind, its fate uncertain. Ultimately it was sold and scrapped... no telling where the apron wound up.
As I spend more and more time working in my tiny shop now, I kind of wish I had that apron. The pay was terrible and hours could be miserable whenever a deadline approached, but there was a certain satisfaction to be had from making physical things for a living. The apron would have been a nice souvenir (and a way to keep most of the sawdust off my clothes.)
Mine was quickly besmirched with paint, bondo, resin, cyanoacrylate, and all manner of other unhealthy substances. I probably could have pointed to each stain and told you which project it had come from.
When I left the shop for my first real full-time web design job, I took my apron with me, but living as I did in an aparment I didn't have any real use for it at home, and it spent most of the next 4 years in the storage space above our parking spot.
I think it was in a box of junk in the trunk of my 1966 Mustang when we left California. The Mustang was left behind, its fate uncertain. Ultimately it was sold and scrapped... no telling where the apron wound up.
As I spend more and more time working in my tiny shop now, I kind of wish I had that apron. The pay was terrible and hours could be miserable whenever a deadline approached, but there was a certain satisfaction to be had from making physical things for a living. The apron would have been a nice souvenir (and a way to keep most of the sawdust off my clothes.)
posted by A.N. Chase | 2:32 PM
1 Comments:
It is funny how those lamentations arise as time goes by. We can even lament the things we have never regretted doing. Keep up your work on banjos. I have read your work so far and enjoyed it. I can't comment on every entry, but they, and the photos say so much.
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