meetgaloots

In September of 1996 I actually met real live Galoots and got to briefly use one of the early Independence Tool dovetail saws...

Wed, 18 Sep 1996
From: Tom Price 
Subject: How I Shortened Paddy's Mallet

Esteemed Galoots,

I find myself standing in the gravel parking lot behind Mike's Crab
House with IT #17 in my right hand. A cool, moist breeze flows from the
Chesapeake Bay. The light of the mercury lamp above us illuminates the
scene and glimmers off of the nearby water.  Before me a block of locust
perches on the trunk edge of a white Grand Am.  The block is held in
place by Paddy's outsized hand.  Paddy and Mike Weaver are
simultaneously instructing me to pull a couple of more times in the kerf
to get the little saw started.  I do so, push once more and magically
the saw starts to zip through this flint-hard wood as if the locust has
been magically transformed into corrugated cardboard....

Maybe I better pause and provide a bit of background.  Monday night I
limp home from a grueling day at the office.  SWMBO and the kids are out
so I scrounge some dinner and sit down at the computer for a bit of
stress relief i.e. download my email and browse a few digests.  Up pops
a message from Paddy indicating that he will be 'in town' for a couple
of days and will be galooting with Mike Weaver.  The possibility of
meeting somewhere for dinner Tuesday night is mentioned.  I wonder what
'town' Paddy is talking about. Fortunately, a subsequent message from
Mike makes all clear.  Paddy is in the greater DC area on bidness and
Tuesday night looks like a good time to meet and eat some crabs (blue
crabs, not those monster Dungeness crabs y'all have on the Left Coast).
Hot dang!  I'm finally going to get to meet a real live Galoot!  Three
of them, including the GM!  Email zips back and forth the following day
as well as a phone call to Mike.  We settle on Mike's Crab House in
Parole, MD just west of Annapolis.  I manage to end my second marathon
meeting of the day by repeatedly asking the participants on either side
of me what the time is.  4:30 pm arrives and I'm stuck in southbound
traffic trying to get out of Wilmington.  5:00 pm arrives and I have
gone maybe 3 miles.  I discover that rocking back and forth while
muttering "c'mon, c'monnnnn" over and over doesn't actually seem to make
traffic proceed any more quickly.  5:30 and I finally cross under I95
and find myself flying down the Delmarva towards Annapolis.  I tuck in
behind a speed crazed trucker and make up for lost time.  

Miles fly by and I find myself crossing the Bay Bridge on Rt. 50. 7:00
pm arrives and in the last traces of daylight I find Parole, take the
exit and promptly get lost trying to find Mike's.  30 minutes later and
one stop at another restaurant I find Mike's.  I walk in with my Galoot
cap on and am instantly waved down by a woman who turns out to be Mike's
charming wife, Dawn.  I stop at the table and gaze upon flesh and blood
Galoots.  A small Starret adjustable square of Paddy's is perched on the
end of the table thereby marking it as a Galoot domain.  I sit down and
we begin to get acquainted.  Paddy looks much like his pictures on his
web site only taller.  ;-) Despite the nickname he doesn't appear to
have a drop of Irish blood in him but instead has the appearance and
bearing of a Spanish don.  He is surprisingly soft spoken and I attempt
to reconcile this with my preconception of the GM/ENB/List Mom I have
seen only in print and a JPEG image.  He is quick though. Very quick.
Henry Sheard turns out to be a young looking guy with red hair and a
high-and-tight military haircut. Judging from appearance he is the only
one present that can claim a Celtic heritage.  He is sporting a recent
chisel stab wound (looks to be healing well) in the web of one hand; the
true mark of Galoothood.  Mike and I turn out to be the short guys (I
have him beat in the 'heft' department though) and he turns out to be
both articulate and quick-witted. I turn out to be the oldest Galoot
present.  We work our way through a pile of crabs and discuss our
occupations, galooting, pets, children, old tools and old toolers, tool
hunting, wreck.the.wood, and Tool Injuries We Have Known, not
necessarily in that order.  

It rapidly becomes clear that I seem to be the only non-computer guy at
the table.  Paddy describes the product that his employer makes and
blithely utters terms like 'terabyte' 'parallel processing' and 'data
stream'.  Mike nods knowingly and I attempt to ask an intelligent
question occasionally, but lets face it he might as well have been
talking to a chimpanzee.  I'm not exactly a Computer Guy. Mike and Paddy
occasionally revert into Unix/Computer Guy jargon which reminds me of
sitting at meals with foreign visitors who lapse into their native
language at seemingly random intervals. Paddy discusses his intention to
smuggle an Emmert vise back to LA in his carry on luggage. Henry relates
the cause of his injury which sparks a round of  Galoots attempting to
show each other scars on hands which are covered with crab snarf. [As an
aside, I believe I can say that steamed crabs are a Galoot food. It
takes some technique and dexterity to open one up, you make a mess and
end up with cuts on your fingers.]  We talk wood and it turns out that
Henry, Mike and I frequent Groff and Hearne although they also appear to
have sniffed out the true wood bargains within a 100 mile radius. The
hours pass pleasantly by and Henry has to take off. Shortly afterward we
end up in the parking lot where Paddy proceeds to show me IT #17.  He
opens the trunk, removes the saw from his briefcase and places it into
my trembling hand.

...after about 4 strokes I have nearly buried the blade in the locust. 
I can't believe the swiftness with which this beautiful tool has
dissected the rock hard wood.  Through the pounding in my ears, I dimly
hear Mike say that I appear to have reduced the useful length of the
block of locust.  Whoops. I now remember that Paddy has this chunk of
wood in his trunk with the intention of taking it back to California and
transforming it into a mallet. I look at the saw kerf I have created. 
Doh!.  It does appear to be in an inconvenient spot.  Paddy graciously
laughs off the damage and says that the narrow kerf won't be a problem.
I weakly offer up epoxy as a possible fix. Mike, Dawn, Paddy and I chat
in the parking lot a bit more and Mike and Dawn take their leave.  Paddy
and I talk a bit more about tool cleaning techniques and we go our
separate ways.

On the drive back up the Delmarva I reflect on what a strange 10 months
it has been.  My interest in woodworking had been slowly waning until I
stumbled on a mention of the OldTools server (with directions for
subscribing) on rec.ww. I was tired of being stressed out after using my
machines and was receptive to the Neanderthal Way. My shop looks
different now with handtools in abundance and a ScarySharp(TM) system on
my bench.  I have crossed some sort of personal Rubicon and am getting
used to the idea of being a tool collector as well as a user. I have
read thousands of words by a garrulous group of Galoots, have benefited
greatly by the kindness of strangers and finally got to meet some in the
flesh. I was not disappointed.

The IT saw? It is truly a marvelous tool. The precision with which it is
made and the luscious maple handle make it in a class by itself. The
handle is the most comfortable I have ever encountered on a tool and the
saw seems like an extension of the hand as a result. My ancient dozuki
seems like a saw on a stick in comparison. My Sanderson-Kayser brass
backed saw is a crude facsimile of the IT and is not worthy of being in
the same shop. Poor Mike has an IT in his possession but has to wait
until Christmas before he can even open it.  If he makes it, he is a
better man than than I. 
**************** 
Tom Price
Just say my next email is to get myself on the IT waiting list.

Like many other Galoots I signed up on the waiting list for an IT saw and eventually received IT #187. It was worth the wait.


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