The Grammies.  The Emmies.  The Oscars.

This is the time of the year when the luminaries of the entertainment world gather to recognize accomplishments in the field, strut the latest fashions and act like buffoons in front of the national media.

No, that’s not what happened in Clearwater, Florida this past Monday.

That’s when the winners of the National Arts Program contest were announced in a brief ceremony at the Pinellas County Government TV studio.  This year saw the largest number of entries in the contest, and awards were given in the Youth under 12, Youth 13 – 18, Adult beginner, Adult Intermediate and Adult professional categories.

I have got to admit, it was a little intimidating being in the contest this year…  the quality of the entries was very high and the competition was tough.

The judges in the contest had a lot to choose from in each category, and awarded an Honorable Mention, Third, Second and First prize in each judging category. Here’s what they eventually settled on in the Adult Professional category…

Honorable Mention:  Solitude by Mark Smith, Photography

Third Place: Somber Gentleman by Douglas Thonen, Painting

Second Place: Nakashima-Inspired Bench by Tom Iovino, Craft

First Place: Inception of a Burden by Debra Lansdowne, Works on paper

Yes, that’s the same Debra Lansdowne who made the ceramic bowl for the Mars and Venus Rising piece I showed earlier.  While I didn’t take first place, I can’t complain… the quality of the works was stunning.

And, I would be remiss if I didn’t thank a few folks… namely the guys up at Bell Forest Products who helped me find the stunning maple board that formed the top of the bench and Craig Andrews of Austin, Texas who offered some design suggestions for the base.  Thanks, guys!

Now.. what am I gonna build for next year’s contest? And, will I have to buy a tuxedo for the next award ceremony?

[Today’s post is a guest column from Seattle-based woodworker Thomas M. Scott.  He’s talented, funny and very knowledgeable about hand tools. Here’s his take on a discussion you may have participated in.]

One of the things I love about getting together with other woodworkers, either in person, or online, is discussing methods of work. It often seems as though there are as many different ways of tackling a problem, as there are woodworkers to discuss it.

A discussion of this nature, usually starts thus: The problem is laid out, and the solutions begin with the most expedient (read simple) use of whatever machine or power tool a participant has the most experience with. Then, someone will usually suggest a specific joint, or classic method, modified for modern machinery. Eventually, the discussion comes around to how it was done in antiquity, and how, or why that particular joint or method is so well suited to its purpose, and if the modern variants are really any improvement over the original.

For example, the discussion might concern the construction of a simple frame, for a frame and panel, or a face frame. Someone will suggest that it could go together quickly with pocket screws.

“All you need is the jig, some pocket screws and the power drill.”

Certainly, someone else will prefer to use dowels (perhaps they already have a doweling jig). Once the pros and cons of dowels versus pocket screws have been exhausted, someone else may suggest a mortise and tenon joint. The virtues of various tenoning jigs are weighed; maybe someone will have built their own.

If this is an international forum, as is likely online, then there will inevitably be a sidebar of the differences between tenoning with a router verses a table saw. Perhaps, someone will bring up the convenience of floating tenons, and of course, everyone will wish that they owned a square mortising machine

And yet, the patient among us, …hold fire until the last possible moment, …when the debate has nearly petered out, … just before the discussion threatens to change entirely. In timing, it’s not unlike an auction, with anxious bidders rapidly exhausting their funds until only one or two are left bidding. Then, just as it seems that the deal is sealed, from some unheard corner comes a new bid,

“Why not just chop the mortises out by hand, and trim the tenons with a shoulder plane?”

After what resembles a stunned silence, the discussion continues with renewed vigor, and those whom were eagerly waiting to speak, now become anxious listeners. New (old) terms are employed, such as ‘haunched’, and ‘foxed’. There will be a discussion of how to ensure precision, using proper technique. Examples of the ancient method will be trotted out as testament to their strength and durability. And each of us will privately examine his own ability to do things the way our forefathers did.

[Thanks, Tom.  By the way, today is the awards ceremony for the art contest at the county courthouse.  I’ll have an update on Wednesday’s post.]

Well, for those of you who follow Tom’s Workbench, you may have noticed that there was no quick poll yesterday.  That’s because I had to spend the better part of my Sunday stuck in the Atlanta airport due to very heavy weather.

I was traveling home from a great weekend trip to celebrate a special birthday with my Dad.  He and my step-mom were on a road trip through North Carolina, and were spending some time with my younger brother and his family in Raleigh.  I flew up to surprise him, and boy, was he ever surprised when I walked out into the main terminal.

We spent Saturday over in Durham, North Carolina near where the Durham Bulls play baseball. It’s a gorgeous ballfield, and I’m sure in the spring it must be great to get out and take in a game there.

Immediately adjacent to the field is the American Tobacco Campus. This is where Lucky Strike cigarettes were made for decades before their production moved.  The old facilities, as in many other cities, were converted from their industrial use to a mixed-use office, entertainment and retail location.

While we were eating lunch in a place called Tyler’s Taproom.  While the smells of the food were mesmerizing and the selection of more than 50 microbrews was impressive, what really struck me was the woodwork.

Tyler’s is located in an old tobacco storage bay, which was little more than a warehouse for the leaves.  So, as you can imagine, the interior was built and left to weather.  The walls were the old brick, featuring the rich patina of age.  The ceiling and beams were all made of old-growth heart pine.

Now, we’re talking.

To keep the appearance, the posts that supported the ceiling beams were kept intact.  One must have rotted, because it was replaced by a steel post clad with wood to make it appear old.

The really amazing thing to see were the benches that were outside the restaurant.  Under the overhangs that shielded the working areas from the scorching summer sun (completely unnecessary in the cooler January air), a series of benches were set out for visitors to rest during their day.

The wood on these babies was impressive.  Sawn from beams taken from the renovation of the warehouses, these pine benches featured six inch thick slabs complete with original bolt holes.  These were mounted on some impressive looking ironwork. Just sitting on these benches gave me a sense of appreciation for how difficult it must have been to fell these large trees and the the care shown in how the wood was reworked into its present form.

We all had a great time celebrating with dad, and he was very happy to be spending his birthday with all three of his sons.

Now, the trip back to Tampa… let’s just say that I got home this morning at 3 a.m.  I should have been on the ground 7 p.m. last night.  But, hey, that’s what happens when you fly with winter weather…