Publisher’s note: Good morning, and welcome to Earlywood, a free excerpt from one of the thousands of pieces I’ve written since 1996. Sometimes, it’s from a magazine article. Or a book. Or (in this case) a blog post published in 2018. Each entry has been updated or annotated with some modern context or point of view. Enjoy!
A couple of years ago, while on my way to Europe, I was summoned on the intercom to the airline’s desk at the gate. The attendant asked me to switch seats so a husband and wife could sit together. I agreed (of course).
Then the attendant said: “I know you. You’re on Ray Underwood’s TV show – ‘The Woodsmith’s Shop.’ I love your work.” I thanked him. And for two seconds, I thought he was going to upgrade me to first class for the coming nine-hour flight. But no joy.
And that moment is the most famous I have ever been.
At that point, I think I had been on six or seven episodes of Roy Underhill’s “The Woodwright’s Shop,” and working with Roy was one of the highlights of my career at Popular Woodworking. Several times I’ve been asked: How did you get on the show? My answer: Roy telephoned me.
It’s a short, flip and disingenuous answer. The real answer is that I worked my butt off for a couple of decades and eventually Roy and a few other people took notice. Most people don’t really believe that, however. The assumption is that if you work at a woodworking magazine, then fame and fortune will follow. It’s hard for me to write those words without cackling.
I suggest this exercise: Without using the internet, try to name six people who were editor-in-chief of a woodworking magazine and are still active in the business. Most people can’t.
This is a frustrating fact even for editors at woodworking magazines. Several employees of mine during my 16 years at the magazine thought they would become celebrities and get flooded with offers to teach all over the world after I hired them. But they didn’t. Why? Because they didn’t use the tools they were given – blogs and access to 200,000 readers. They didn’t freely give information, preferring to dispense it only to people who paid them in a classroom environment (if even then). And they were occasionally just lazy.
Writing every day is work. Freely dispensing what you know (or think you know) opens you up to criticism. Having a blog makes you a target for trolls. Being continuously curious and chasing leads is emotionally and physically exhausting. Answering emails from readers for 18 25 years will make you crazy. Being asked to do things for clubs – donating your time, work and end product – will make you feel used. And on and on.
But it’s always been worth it for me. Not for the money – there is no money in woodworking journalism. But because I love the craft so damn much that it makes me crazy. Woodworking gave me a purpose in life. And I am grateful to the thousands of people who have taught me bits and pieces of the trade since I first picked up the tools in 1993.
So, no, you won’t get a first-class upgrade if you take this path. But you might get a call from Roy Underhill. And that’s worth a lot more in my book.
One of my favorite moments on Parks and Recreation was Ron Swanson's reaction to seeing Christian Becksvoort at a woodworking event. Especially since the tiniest fraction of one percent of people watching the show would have any idea he's a real person. I have to imagine getting him on the show was 100% Nick Offerman's doing and I love him all the more for it. https://youtu.be/sp4RmP1T8ZQ?si=zrv-K_4N38UU683P&t=84
One of the greatest things Popular Woodworking accomplished while you guys were there was to get all of The Woodwright's Shop on DVD. Thanks to all for rescuing it.
I always get a kick out of going to something like the old WIA, or last year's FWW event in Connecticut. It's like Woodstock for wood nerds. All the celebrities! Celebrities that only a very small group of people recognize.