Monday, November 21, 2016


We have a client, that had a client, who wanted to purchase a coffee table from our clients store (follow me?)
 Problem being, the table from our clients store was too small. So our clients client asked if she could get one bigger. Our client contacted us to see if we could replicate her table, only bigger, for her client.
 The budget for her clients replica table was laughable, but our client is a good client, and happened to be in a bind, so we did it.
 Not for the money either, because when it was all said and done, there wasn't much to be had. We did it for 2 reasons...1. our client is a good client, and 2. we were down for a challenge.
 Each leg has 30 welds. All 30 welds need to be ground and honed. Most of you have no idea what that translates to, and it basically translates to Zack being blind and me being deaf.
 Zack drove out to Monee Illinois to select wood to resemble the original tables top. I couldn't go because we had a sleep over for the kids the night before. Monee is fucking far, and the ironic thing is that Monday morning after Zack drove to the moon, we found out that there is a guy on the 5th floor of our building who sells barn wood.
 Anyway...we knocked it out and nailed it with little to show except a mediocre photo and a little more confidence.
 Next up are a couple little things that fall into the "gift" category.
I have a secret love for making little trinkets, especially this time of year.
 The first one is just a little bent hook jacket hanger.
The second is a railroad spike bottle opener.
 I got a message from my buddy Kotton, who I met a few years back while he was Screeching Weasel's tour manager. Kotton manages a lot of bands and is always on tour with somebody. Whenever Kotton is in Chicago, he'll hit me up and say "hey, I'm here with KORN, come to the show", or whoever he happens to be on the road with. Well, Friday he hit me up and said he was in town with Sully Erna from GODSMACK and asked if I wanted to bring my family out. I love nothing more than exposing my son to live music, so I checked with Laura, and we were all going to the show Friday night.
 I wanted to make something for Kotton, so I figured I'd try my hand at a railroad spike bottle opener.
Lemme tell you...for something so small and seemingly simple....shit ain't so simple.
 I spent a couple hours cutting and grinding and shaping and ruining railroad spikes before I finally got it to work.
 Zack picked up a 6 pack so we could see if she'd work, and work she did.
The thing about these music venues is that you damn near have to get a body cavity search to get in, and I knew my railroad spike bottle opener would never make it past security. I gave it to Zack because I haven't had to open a bottle in several years.
 Kotton...if you're reading this, I'll make ya one and send it to ya brother.
I suck at getting gifts or getting shit for free. It makes me feel weird.
 Whenever someone extends kindness to me in that manner, I feel compelled to gift back.
Maybe it's how I was raised? Maybe I should learn to accept kindness? I don't know, but I know that I have to give back in order to feel good. Everyone wins in the end.
 It's the fuckers that expect shit for free that I enjoy crossing off of my humanity list.
We get THOSE type of people by the dozen.
 Before we moved in our new shop we had to scrub the floors because the former occupant made soap there.
 While we were scrubbing the floor, a man named Gabriel walked past and offered us his floor scrubbing machine. That machine and his kindness saved us hours of intense labor. Gabriel works for Catholic Charities who happen to be right above us. Gabriel has spent the last 20 years feeding senior citizens that cannot afford food.
 Gabriel asked if we could do a little welding job for him. We immediately took care of his repair and when we finished he said "just send me the bill and I'll get you paid."
 Our response was "there is no bill."
Money isn't everything.
 You can never put a dollar amount on an act of kindness.

Monday, November 14, 2016


We're finally settled in our new shop.
 The move was brutal.
2 guys, 2 pick up trucks, a broken elevator, and a ton of shit...but we did it.
 The new shop is set up to be very efficient and everything has it's place, and I gotta tell ya, it's probably the cleanest shop aside from that guy on TV (Norm Abhrams?).
 We worked our asses off and I think it shows in our space.
Monday morning, everything was set up and the machines were fired up. We knocked out 10 railroad spike hooks and this really cool poster display cart for an art dealer.
 A lot of change has been taken place. Cubs won the World Series, Trump became the 45th President, I mean those are 2 monumental things even to a guy who hates politics and baseball.
 I've talked about "change" many times, and it's not so much that I don't like change, it's just that I don't care for that awkwardness in the beginnings of change.
 It's kind of like a first date where you're thinking "do I touch her butt, do I not touch her butt, fuck...I don't know...", or that tense moment when you think you might have to fight some asshole, where you're exchanging "fuck you's" with someone and you're not sure if it's going to escalate , or it's gonna stay in name calling mode.
 It's just a weird feeling in your belly at first, but it passes, and if the change isn't necessarily GOOD...well, we were designed to acclimate
 A lot of you are going "oh shit...Brian is referring to the new we go"
No, no Brian is not referring to the new President.
 The day a President ties my boots in the morning, or gets my kid ready for school, or grabs my stack of bills and say "hey bro, I'll take care of those", maybe then and only then would I really care to talk about a president.
 I understand my role in the world, and I think people would be much happier if they stopped thinking that anybody on a global level remotely gives a fuck about what you think or how you feel.
 The people around you or directly attached to your life might care, and that's where you belong, that should be your focus. Nurture that circle. Make that circle the best fucking circle in the world. That circle has the potential to be a collective voice that can be heard globally..
 We had a sleep over on Friday.
I had the kids do a little spelling/writing contest (which they oddly LOVED). There were very specific rules to this contest, and you had to follow them exactly in order to win.
 When I proclaimed Sofia as the winner of round 1, my better half came in to let them know they were all winners, to which I replied, "no...SOFIA is the winner because she paid attention to the rules and these other 2 did not."
 The 2 boys that didn't win worked very hard in the next rounds and we had quite a few 3 way ties and a whole lot of fun.
 Ya gotta teach em young in the ways of NOT being a pussy.
Even when the Cubs won the World Series, I heard grown ass men display disdain for other peoples celebrations because they weren't "real fans".
 I mean when did these people become an authority on other peoples sport watching habits, and who gives a fuck???? And what's worse was watching the accused try to justify their celebration!
 Do these self centered pricks really think that their dedication to "watching" a baseball game propelled the team to the World fuckin' Series??!!
 I've gotten so off track in this blog post and it's way too late to go back, so here's my new points
1. Change is cool even if it's awkward at first
2. Don't raise another generation of pussies
3. The world doesn't revolve around you, and you're not nearly as important nor significant as you think.
    Being humble and gracious will work wonders for you.
Sorry for the erratic post, but a lot of shit has gone down since my last post.
 It's Monday. Start your week off by not being a self centered pussy.