Infill Planes


 
 

Letters from Paul Schobernd


 
 

Heart Attack Plane!

 

Oh Gracious Galoots,

I weren't payin' proper attention as I was perusing the offerings in my Digested Old Tools.  Somebody was shakin' their head ruefully at the finest plane ever offered this side of the Great War!  Being follicly challenged I am unable to shake my head ruefully and might not if I could.  It sounds slightly obscene and besides if I shake my head - ruefully or not - about the only thing that happens is the sawdust and woodshavings which are stuck to yesterday's lunch in my flavor saver and my beard reach critical mass and sometimes ruefully, maybe it's ruefully after I think of it, and they go flyin' through the ether and land on my belly.  They stay there for a long time unless I get a reason to move.

That brings me back to that dainty-fied, gender-appropriately-whipped, ultra-disgusting, cheap guitar finish looking plane which d&*n near made me choke and drop that classically fried piece of chicken/chook onto my keyboard!

Last time I saw a $650 "for sale" sign on a tool it took 4 of us to load it on the truck and there was beer money left over to boot.  I'm sittin' here gaggin' and frothin' until I realized that it wasn't just an ordinary plane. 

It was a French somethin' or another.  There was this pretty French word , let's see, I think it was PetitPoutlailier - that's close - and no disrespect to the French language.  But, once I figured it was a PetitPoul... that I had obviously misunderstood the ad.  My French is a little rusty, but I believe that translates as a short French person will deliver this tool by train to your location.  With the weakened state of the dollar French people just don't go around deliverin' this stuff for nothin'.

But, then you gotta tip them $15. It don't matter much if'n that's Canuck, Real French or the Almighty Dollar.

I was sorta put out that there was only one of these planer tools to be had.  Mostly for the entertainment value, what I really wanted to see just how many people really could be had!  I suspect this would be like shootin' fish in a barrel in some circles.  The picture-takin' sorta reminded me of the last Robert Redford movie that he made, it was all swathed in this soft golden glow so you couldn't see his Liver Spots, but it all kinda reminded you of Fall in a spent Cornfield.  You get so busy bein' tuned into the golden light and the possibility of a celestial visitation that you forget that you came to see the main character!

All I know is that I ain't ever gonna be the same after this.  I'm a sorry excuse for a Quaker and they might "read me out" of Meeting if they figured I'd really leave, but where I was goin' with this is that I haven't fired a gun in 4 decades, but I got a bunch of blunderbusses around here - high brass paper 10 gauge shells.  I am going to sit in the basement tonight - armed - and guard those PetitPoutlaliers that I always thought was your basic run-of-the-mill Stanley planes, until I can get to the bank and rent me a bunch of strong boxes and put these things away for posterity and the fruit of my looms, my adult kids.

Paul in Normal
July, 2008


 
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