Today is Saturday…in case you didn’t know. If you were really not paying attention, you may have missed the fact that it is also the first week of April. When the two elements, the first week of the month, and a Saturday coincide (Which strangely enough seems to happen once a month), it produces a socio-chemical reaction, resulting in a phenomena known as blacksmithing class:

The insanity of rising pre-dawn from a warm bed to hammer on red hot iron, risking third degree burns, in a freezing shop, hazarding frostbite, while breathing horrible smoke fumes of such a toxic mix that they would make Superman choke continues to weigh heavily on my mind. Sadly they do not weigh heavily enough to break through the rather thick cranial structure that heaven so thoughtfully bestowed upon me; I continue to participate in this activity, against all better judgment.
Here am I, looking very excited. It was still early in the morning…

I was reading a bit of history on blacksmithing, and it led me to believe that when God created man, that he also had to have given him a few of the concepts that formed the basis for his survival. First, we know that God told man to care for the Garden of Eden. Proper care for any garden involves the tilling of soil, especially with trees, keeping the roots thriving in the soil. I highly doubt that the angels ran a hardware store on the side to supply Adam with the tools of his trade (Would it have been called God’s-Mart?). The argument could be made that there was no need to actively “care” for the garden, but we are still left with the fact that Adam was at one time in a position where he needed tools. God has proven that he has tools (Remember the angel with the flaming sword!), and all things must come from God; ergo, God is the founder of blacksmithing.
Otherwise, we are forced to believe that guys were sitting around a REALLY hot campfire, when one turns to the other and says, “Let’s throw this rock in the fire.” The second says, “Dude! That is such a cool idea. When it starts glowing we can, like, pull it out and start banging on it with another rock and pound wicked cool shapes with it.” Sadly, the fact that the tongs required to hold their 1600 degree idea had not yet been invented was missed by our two innovators. Later we see these two back home with their mother putting burn cream on badly blistered prehistoric hands saying, in that voice that mothers have used since Abel was born, “What gave you the ridiculous idea of touching hot rocks in the first place?” I am putting my money on God, rather than a couple of cavemen dropouts…
Here is the fire; would you touch anything coming out of that?

Matthew is the main reason I come to blacksmithing. He loves working with hot metal. In order to understand how much he loves it, you should know that he was up and dressed, waking me up before 6:30am. He prepared our sack lunches, gathered our tools, LOADED our tools in the car, and was asking me if it was time to go before I had even gotten to the point where I realized that I was no longer dreaming. As long as he likes it that much, I would drive him to the moon. People should follow their dreams, and if I can be a part of making that happen, I count myself blessed. See, doesn’t he look so happy?

There are some added bonuses to helping others enjoy themselves. I finished my first tool today! It is a pair of tongs. I have yet to figure out what I shall use these particular items for, and am open to the suggestions of my friends. Let me know if you have any ideas. Here is the item, so you may see it in all its…uniqueness!

That is a look into blacksmithing. Here is a happy thought; perhaps my tongs will end up in a museum some day. I can see it now, “This is a fine example of the technological prowess of the early twenty-first century. Whoever lovingly shaped this tool was a master craftsman. Look at how a piece of metal was perfectly shaped into a useful object. Yes, this was obviously made by a genius.” Oh, and just so you know, this genius burnt himself today… (Mom, do we have any burn cream????)
Later! |
Apr. 5, 2008 - Untitled Comment
I would recommend that you stick to your proper syntax and leave the slang to the rest of us cavemen... it doesn't quite fit you.
You could give me the tongs to put in the pocket of my jumpsuit... Those would really come in handy when I'm trying to pull that ice cream soaked piece of steak out of some poor citizen of Calaveras county's throat. Or I could use them to threaten our uncooperative patients... They are pretty heavy and mean looking... I like that idea better.
You have already gone to bed and I am left sitting here all by my lonesome typing away and making no sense whatsoever. If I could open my eyes long enough to find the backspace or delete button I would hurriedly erase what I just wrote, but since it is out of my field of vision I will just leave what I have written.
Peace out.
TJH