Odin sacrificed an eye, trading eyesight for insight, and disguised as Vegtam the Wanderer, traveled the world in quest of the wisdom of the ages. I have the eye sacrifice part covered. I'll get back to you when that wisdom thing kicks in.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Joe's Drawers

According to The Judge, who has lived his whole life in Oakwood, Joe Koevnig was a bit of a neighborhood legend in his day. He had a large garage which had a shop with a wood stove and an ice box. The shop was where the men hung out - smoking, drinking and playing cards, especially during snowstorms. As far as I know he didn't call it a growlery, but we all know a growlery when we see it, don't we?

The garage and house were razed a year ago. Before the wrecking ball took it out I grabbed what I could of Joe, some old pens, a few beat up old shop drawers and I took them down to The Growlery. For a year the drawers were stacked loose in my bench. If I wanted to get at something in a bottom drawer I had to remove two drawers to get at it. After a while the charm of that wore thin. It didn't seem ... efficient. Last week I made a couple of small cabinets to insert into my bench. Amazing, the drawers, the refrigerator, fit as if they were made for it. All I had to do was make the cabinet sides out of thin plywood. That worked so well I made three more drawers myself, trying to replicate Joe's proven construction methods, one long one underneath and a couple more on the left side. I considered painting Joe's drawers, I finally decided they wouldn't be improved and the varied colors went well with the Sioux Chief's bonnet.

From left: garden tools in the bottom, non-bike tools and "stuff" in second drawer, cardboard box for empty beer cans and bottles. The Chief is a refrigerator for craft beer, bottled water and Coke - no lite beer, no diet soda. You want low-calorie? I got water. The large brown wooden box/drawer is a case of beer in waiting. The rest of the drawers are full of miscellaneous bicycle paraphernalia. The far right is a machinist tool box resting on a castered cabinet.

Three Galmozzis. The one on the right wall is the 1984 I publicly swore I wouldn't buy. I haven't done anything with it yet, but it gives me pleasure looking at the three bikes, observing the evolution of bicycle construction and components. Just today I realized the "new" bike is still 30 years old and would be considered totally obsolete and quaint by most of today's riders.

1 comment:

George A said...

Pretty soon your Growlery will be like my garage--too stuffed with interesting junque to work. At least you still have enough room to drink.