#%$&!
You would think that roughing up my fingers with 60 grit sandpaper would teach me a lesson. Or maybe you would think that bumping my ring finger on a stationary pullsaw would get my attention.
But you would be wrong. No, it takes me actually pulling the saw into my thumb and bleeding on the scrap wood to catch on.
I respect power tools. I treat a table saw as if its primary function is to kill me, and its secondary function is to remove my fingers, and that it only recently has been slightly tamed to use to cut wood. But for hand tools, I somehow act as if it is safe, as if the fact that I am the one powering it somehow makes it benign. And I have to hurt myself repeatedly to remember that I am wrong.
There is probably a spiritual lesson here, but I'm too ADD today to figure it out. In the meantime, here's the distraction du jour: the entertainment center is approaching the 'assembled' stage.
posted by nathan @ 3:38 PM
3 comments
3 Comments:
Oooo! Nice! The furniture, not the finger. To the finger I say "Ouch!", and to the wielder "Wear gloves!"
captcha: svggs
Here's another little pearl of wisdom: When using oxy-acetylene torches to cut steel above your arm, while laying flat on your back, remember that molten metal is subject to the same laws of physics as the rest of the Universe.
The furniture I like :)
Yeah...those small ones always sting--especially when they run into pineapple juice. Reminds me of the paper cut/lemon juice combination in "The Princess Bride."
The tips of fingers might take longer to head--being in a high traffic area and all.
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