Ok, so this doesn’t really end in a completed project, but I wanted to take a bit to talk about a rite of passage that I just went through.

Every once in awhile, the wood turning club that I’m in gets invited to participate in some kind of public demonstration.  The venues vary, but generally, the thought is the club gets some members together, people bring mini-lathes with them, then spend whatever time they have during the event to make “stuff” while people watch.  We had a request to bring examples of our work for sale or display, and demo what we do at the “Summer Harvest Festival” in Princeville, Il.  This event was held at the end of July at a museum (of sorts) that deals with antique farm equipment.  It consisted mainly of lots of really old tractors, really old implements, and lots of really old specialty machines that in today’s world wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the open market because of the extreme likelihood the buyer would be maimed for life.  The weather was perfect, the foot traffic was good, there was live music each day, and lunch was provided for the exhibiters.  It was a good time! 

When the request came in, my immediate thought was “I am no where near good enough to put on a demo”.  I’ve only been turning for about 9 years, and in all reality, only seriously for the last 5 or so.  That sounds like a lot, but at least for me, it just didn’t seem like “enough” experience to participate, especially with guys in the club that have been making stuff for 40+ years.  My thought was that people would come by, watch what I was doing, and somehow know that “this guy’s just winging it”!  As I was opening my mouth to agree to help, three very distinct thoughts flashed through my mind in an instant, like three distinct daydreams/nightmares playing at 1000x normal speed:

1.  The other club members watch what I’m doing for all of 5 minutes, then start calling me out for being so obviously inept.
2. That I’d be turning something only to have some kind of major accident where I’m left explaining to the EMT’s how I had caused a project to fly off the lathe, careen through the crown at a couple hundred miles per hour and seriously injury a wide path of spectators.
3. That I’d get all the way over to this little town without remembering to bring something really important that I’d need and have to just stand around, looking stupid all day.

Yeah, there’s probably some self-esteem issues on display here, but it really was the first thoughts to cross my mind.  I finally remembered a mentor of mine saying, “If you’re not trying, you’re dying”, so I swallowed hard, pushed the fears aside, and jumped off the cliff.

The drive to Princeville, for me, was about an hour and a half away.  We had all agreed to get there about a half hour before it opened, but just to be safe, I rolled in 45 minutes early.   The other three guys lived much closer, were already there and had already set up in the spots of their choosing.  This left me to set up next to the door, which was the main entrance into the building.  Me, right next to the door, in pole position, right where everyone would be walking past to see what I was doing.  All I could see was the eventual crowd that would surely be injured by my inevitable screwup on the lathe.  I also figured being the first turner they saw, if they were interested, they’d stop to watch.  The more people watching, the higher the chance they’d see my mistakes.

I decided to make some Harry Potter type wands that one daughter had requested as props to be used for another daughter’s baby shower.  Not difficult to make, not a lot of weight to injure people should it spin off into the crowd, and they’re quick and easy.  I also set out several pieces I had made, just to show off what I make.  About 10 minutes into the thing, a lady casually asks, “Are these for sale” and picked up one of my bowls.  Honestly, I didn’t see that coming.  The other turners looked at me with expectant smiles on their faces of the impending sale, but I just looked back at her with deer in the headlight stares.  I ended up not selling them, which the other members didn’t really understand.

A few minutes later, a woman with a little boy walked up and watched as chips were flying off the lathe.  I smiled at the little boy, who was watching in utter amazement at what I was doing.  I stopped making the wand, chucked up a piece of mulberry, and started making a spinning top while his mom asked questions about what I was doing.  The whole time I spoke to his mother, the little boy continued to stare with that wondering smile only little kids possess.  When I was done with the top, I parted it off and showed him how it would spin on the table.  He smiled again, as if I had done some kind of Penn & Teller-ish magic  trick.  I asked him if he wanted to try and of course he did.  It took him a couple tries, but it was soon spinning while he jumped with excitement.  I gave him the top and you’d have thought I had given him a bag of gold.

I had several older gentlemen come by, most likely retired farmers, who stopped to tell me stories of using their old metal lathes to make replacement pieces for some old model of tractor that they assumed I would know about.  People of all ages came in and looked at the work we had displayed and offered compliments.  About one in five people walking by would stop and watch or ask some kind of question.  “What wood is that”, “how long did it take for you to learn to do that”, “why do you keep switching from tool to tool”, “you have wood chips stuck in your beard”, “what do you do with all the wood shavings”, etc.  Each time, I’d shut the lathe off, answer their questions, and try to be as pleasant as possible.  It was a constant occurrence that I really hadn’t expected.  I just kinda figured people would look over, avoid eye contact, and just saunter on.

At the end of the second day, we broke camp, packed up all of our things, and were preparing to leave when the owner of the museum came up to thank us for participating.  He had been a regular at our “booth”, stopping by to see  what we were working on each time he passed.  He even bought a bottle opener from one of the other turners.  Then, he invited us to participate in a similar thing they’re going to be doing in the spring.  I figure if he wants us to come back, we must have done something right.

On the drive home, I had an hour and a half to process what I had experienced the prior two days.  Here’s what I think I came away with:

1a.  While it is absolutely true that people suck, somehow, these people didn’t.  I think it was something about the event catering to rural, small town folk, who all had some tie to the farming community and not the “city folk” who frequent the art shows or street fairs, seem to want to try to one-up the other guy, and think everyone else is there to serve them.  They were respectful, kept their kids from ripping up the displays (except for one grandma who let her 4 grandkids manhandle our stuff), said thank you, looked you in the eye when they talked and smiled.  I was expecting people who were much more hostile, much more self-centered, and much less approachable.  It made me realize just how much I miss being around small town people and small town values.

1b.  Not to be too political, but there were many people who were either wearing a MAGA hat, wearing a MAGA shirt, or had some other display of support for president Trump.  That’s not something you generally see in the city.  This event was held in “fly over country”, but it really showed me how deep of a connection there is between these people and the president.

2.  All of the initial fear that I had about demonstrating what I do was completely unfounded.  It was really silly of me to be scared of participating in this event, because the general public was never going to see if I was “good” or not, they just liked watching someone create something out of seemingly nothing.  There were no art critics, no wood turning masters, and no officials from the American Association of Woodturners circulating through the crowd, waiting to pounce.  The other club members didn’t pounce, either!  I was certainly “good enough” to be there, but I didn’t realize that until I reflected back that I was able to offer up a truthful and accurate answers for every question I was asked.

3.  If you’re going to join a club, then you’re accepting an obligation to help out the club.  There are so many clubs where 90% of the work is done by 10% of the people, while the other dolts just sit back, seemingly oblivious that everyone else is doing the heavy lifting.  Our club is no exception, although I do feel it’s fair to point out some of the member have reached an age where they physically can’t do much to help.  We passed out at least 50 business cards (with the club webpage listed) to people and invited them to come to a meeting.  As a casual marketing strategy, I think this was very successful and I think I represented the club well.

4.  It’s all about the kids.  During the two days, whenever someone with kids would come by, I’d quickly spin a top and give it to them.  One little girl came on day one with her mom and watched as I made her a spinning top out of maple.  When I gave it to her, I asked if she had markers or crayons at home and told her if she decorated it with color, it would look prettier as it spun.  The next day, they came back and she brought her top back for me to see.  She had added purple, green, blue and pink stripes to it, to match the streaks her mother had out in her hair.  She was obviously proud of her decoration and took great delight in showing me what it looked like when it spun.  Seeing the smile on her face and the way she carefully packed her (now decorated) spin top back in her tiny purse made my whole day.

5.  My old mentor was right.  Trying something new, even if you fail, is a necessary thing that you just have to force yourself to do.  I had a great time, met some wonderful people, and actually got to know the other three club members much better.  I would have missed out on all of that if I would have remained within my comfort zone, an hour and a half away from where I should have been.

The club is putting on another live demonstration in November, and if I’m still in town by then, I have every intention of participating.  It’s just too much fun not to jump in!  I’ve also started talking with other club members about setting up something more often, like an adult ed class through the town’s parks and rec department, or even our own mini-craft fair centered on making Christmas ornaments and small things for the holidays.  Now, I just can’t wait for the next opportunity to show what I do and answer questions.