I recently learned my finishing mentor – likely he was yours, too – and friend Bob Flexner died at home on December 29, 2024 (read his obituary here). Bob was perhaps best-known for the book “Understanding Wood Finishing,” recognized by many as the bible of all things finishing, and as the long-time finishing columnist for Popular Woodworking Magazine.
That’s how I met him, when I was hired as managing editor for PWM in 2005. I was assigned his column to edit, and was warned that he was persnickety about every change; he was every bit as meticulous about his writing as he was with his finishing research and experimentation.
At first I was a little scared of Bob – but then I called to ask a few questions about his December 2005 column on spray gun maintenance, and we got into a somewhat spirited discussion about comma splices, misplaced modifiers and the like. After that, he trusted me to make minor grammatical and syntactical changes without his approval – but I usually sought his input and OK anyway, simply because I enjoyed talking with him.
When I was working on my first house, Bob was always delighted to wax prolific when answering my (probably) boneheaded questions about floor finishes, the best paint strippers, what kind of brush to use on this type of surface…. He’s why I know about blotching, bleeding and fish eye, and why I’m now pretty good at painting and brushing on shellac. And why I never trust a manufacturer’s application instructions (he’d want me to reiterate that neither should you).
After I left PWM in 2017, I’d email or call Bob every so often to check in and see how he was doing. Then in late 2020, I was hired to copy edit the third revised edition of “Understanding Wood Finishing” and the second edition of “Wood Finishing 101” (Fox Chapel). It was a joy to once again work with him.
The following is an excerpt from “By Hound and Eye” by George Walker and Jim Tolpin; Illustrated by Andrea Love. It is a companion to the hardbound book “By Hand & Eye” by Walker and Tolpin. The two books are meant to complement one another. “By Hand & Eye” focuses more on the history behind the geometrical systems and offers projects using the simple ratios explored in the book. “By Hound & Eye” is concerned mostly with the practical exercises needed to open your inner eye and offers exercises not found in the hardbound book. Here is an example of the exercises and inspirations the books has to offer.
Beginning Monday, March 17, we’ll be testing the waters for walk-in storefront hours. The plan for now – always adjustable – is to be open from 10 a.m.-2 p.m. on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays…in large part because that’s about the longest stretch of being upright and active that allows me to not whimper in pain all next day.
We have a doorbell, and eventually, we’ll simply be able to scamper down the stairs from our editorial offices when it rings to help out any customers – so likely our open hours will expand when we can more easily take turns with said scampering.
This week, though, with Chris teaching a chair class (of all things!) and Kale helping out wherever they are needed, we don’t have the coverage. But starting next week, we’ll be there. So come see us if you need a book or tool! (I’ll be working out of the storefront during my hours – no scampering.)
The storefront is at 407 Madison Ave., Covington, Ky., 41011. And again, those hours will be 10 a.m.-2 p.m. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.
The front of the Anthe building, at 407 Madison Ave., Covington, Ky., 41011. Both front entrances will be unlocked and available for use.
Planning to join us for the Anthe Open House this Sunday (March 9) from 2-5 p.m.? We hope so! It’s our public celebration of the new Lost Art Press editorial headquarters, storefront and warehouse – and it’s been a lot of work and a long time coming. We are glad to be done. (OK…done for now. It’s a century-old building; the work is never actually done.)
The building front – and its two main entrances – are at 407 Madison Ave,. Covington, Ky, 41011. While facing the building (as shown above), the door on the left leads directly into the new storefront. The double doors on the right lead into the stairwell; to get into the storefront, it’s the first door inside on the left. Both of these entrances will be unlocked and operational on Sunday.
But so as to avoid a bottleneck in the front, we’ll also have unlocked the back door at the back right side of the building, which leads directly into our warehouse area.
The back entrance, the green door, is not as picturesque. And please watch your step.
And if you have mobility issues, please park on the loading ramp (off of West Fourth Street) and knock on the roll-up door at the top of the loading ramp. (Please do not use this option unless it is truly necessary; save it for those who need it, because parking is extremely limited on our ramp.)
Regardless of which entrance you choose, someone from LAP will be there to welcome and direct you.
See you Sunday, I hope!
– Fitz
p.s. Public parking is available on Madison and surrounding streets. The area is flat and walkable.
If you hate oversharing, close this page now and go on your merry way.
Always match your boot to your cat; the hair stuck in the Velcro won’t show as much.
Still here? OK – you’re about to read about what a wuss I am, because with just one weekend’s exception (and it was probably a mistake), my woodworking has been limited to reading, writing and editing about it. Oh – and this weekend, I’ll get to talk about it a lot (I’m guessing).
As you likely know by now if you follow this blog, our substacks, my Insta, the Lost Art Press Insta etc., I slipped on ice and broke my right ankle in three places on January 14 (1 out of 10, do not recommend). On January 21, after the swelling had subsided enough, I had surgery to insert a long cannulated (good word, that!) screw into my fibula, and to have a plate screwed to my tibia. (No, the screws are not slot heads. No, the screws are not clocked. Yes, I wish they were. Yes, I will likely set off airport metal detectors.)
The soonest I will be able to drive (and it’s iffy) is April 16. So I’ve been mostly working from my couch with my right foot elevated above heart level. This is comfortable only for my cats, who like having a constant lap handy for naps.
This picture was taken in real time, as I wrote this post. Toby does not make it easy to type! (And I hope my doctor doesn’t see this…pretty sure I’m supposed to keep the boot on.)
I knew most of my work would be of the sedentary type (good thing I have lots of it!) – but I had SUCH BIG PLANS to scoot down to the basement on my butt (the easiest way to navigate stairs) to work at my bench down there for at least an hour or two most days. Heck – I even borrowed an ATS (all-terrain scooter) from my buddy Aaron for that purpose, one with large tires that can navigate the horse mat in front of my bench, and easily roll over sawdust.
The view from the bottom stair: What an embarrassing mess. I should at the very least try to clean off my bench enough that I _could_ do some woodworking on it…
But you know what happens to plans – we make them and the gods laugh.
The only other time I’ve broken a bone was more than 25 years ago, and it did not require invasive surgery – just a closed reduction and a few months in a cast. Healing this time around has been much harder work – and it is requiring more naps than I’ve taken since pre-school. (Most things are more difficult at 56 than at 30, even without a broken ankle…and I have finally been forced to accept it.)
The only “woodworking” I’ve done since my accident was demonstrating a few operations (and not terribly gracefully!) in a February 7-9 Dutch tool chest class. It is difficult to maintain the proper sawing stance while balancing on one foot…oh wait…that is not a proper sawing stance. If my friend Jake hadn’t come to town to help out – and do most of the work, as well as drive me back and forth to the shop – there is no way I could have taught that class. And being upright (even in a wheelchair) for three days straight likely set me back as far as healing. Still, it was worth it. I was so happy to make even a few shavings and a small pile of sawdust.
But apparently not happy enough to do it at home.
Jake is on the far right. Thank you again, Jake! And thanks to everyone else for putting up with the weirdness.
So here I sit on my couch, foot in the air, marveling at those who every day overcome physical challenges, challenges that don’t stop them from picking up a woodworking tool, from modifying a workbench to accommodate a wheelchair, from lowering a table saw to a safe working level, and myriad other modifications that simply allow them to make things. I feel rather ashamed when I think of folks like Michael Rogen, who hasn’t let a degenerative disease keep him down. Or Steve, aka Wheelchair Woodworker, whose spinal cord injury can’t keep him away from the lathe. Or John Furniss, aka The Blind Woodsman, who uses a full complement of power tools.
There are so many woodworkers who don’t have it as easy as me; I do know how lucky I am. I will heal. I will be back working in the shop before too much longer – and without needing to modify anything. In the meantime, I can afford to be lazy. I can afford to be a wuss. And I am thankful beyond measure that I can afford – in every sense of the word – to be so.
But I am at least thinking about woodworking; I’ve come up with a long list of projects to get 90-percent done, per my usual MO.
