I’ve never been called a Renaissance Man, dilettante maybe,
superficial dabbler for sure. Maybe I do have too many hobbies. Just maybe.
It’s not unusual for me to invest an entire day piddling
with some nonessential but highly interesting task while critical functions
scream “help, fix me, I’m leaking here, make me work again, pay me, call me.” I
don’t listen. I just keep searching for the right part that might make this
homemade guitar work again. Hell, I paid $50 for the kit two decades ago. What’s
more important than having it play again?
I bring this up because I have invested three mornings recently
replacing and attempting to adjust three knives on a woodworking jointer.
It happened this way.
I’m not sure the knives really needed replacing. A friend,
who borrows its use once every three years or so, said it did. Did I mention
that he is the same friend who will spend a whole afternoon correcting a
distance error of 1-64th of an inch on a mortise and tendon joint?
Well there you have it. I won’t mention his name but he lives in Sherwood,
Arkansas with a veritable queen of a wife named Barbara Middleton. (Yes, along
with me and our friend Brigadier General Troy Galloway, he belongs to the National
Association of Men Who Over-married). But back to the project.
Replacing the new knives wasn’t hard, although they weren’t
the ones the aforementioned friend wanted. The ones he recommended cost $300.
The ones I purchased cost $75. I don’t suppose he will ever forgive me. Could
this be the reason he builds complicated cabinetry that would grace the finest
of mansions while I build “mop and broom” hangers that my wife won’t even screw
on the wall of a 100 year-old dilapidated farmhouse?
Nah. Must be something else.
Anyhow. Replacing the knives was a fairly simple three-hour
process, (for me). The adjusting of them turned into a tedious nightmare that
haunts me yet.
What you have to do is this: with one hand hold a bar with thingamajigs,
called gib bolts, that hold the knife in place. With another hand, seat the
knife and hold it in position, square with either end of the cylinder. With
another hand, tighten the gib bolts just enough to hold the knife in
preliminary position. With another hand, turn the cutting cylinder so that the
knife’s edge is at its highest position, as determined by extending, with a
free hand, a straight edge from the top of the infill table. With another hand,
adjust the edge of the far end of the knife with an allen-wrench inserted into
a hole in the cylinder, being sure to secure the near end of the knife with
another hand, using a thick glove for safety. Feel free, the directions state,
to hold those directions in front of you as you proceed. Oh, and be sure to
tie, or hold, the safety cover plate out of the way while you work.
They suggest that you disconnect the jointer from the electrical
outlet during the process. At first, I didn’t see the necessity as I didn’t
intend to use the jointer while I was doing all this. But, I like to follow
instructions to the letter. I followed them all, the directions that is, and
the knives still aren’t seated properly. Drats. And it looked so easy on YouTube. Three
hours and a treasure trove of exquisite profanity wasted.
Speaking of appropriate language, I have one word to
describe all this. It’s in a foreign tongue, so text me if I need to translate.
It is “Numbahf*****ten!” There you have it.
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| Oh, and I invent useful things as well. |
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