My good friend Iggy, the trained shop monkey.

He’s got a really good story. It started a few years ago, after my oldest son came out to the shop to watch dad work. After a few minutes, I set him up on a section of the shop floor with some scraps and a bottle of Elmer’s white glue.

While I watched him work, I started calling him my little shop monkey. It was a cute thing to call a cute kid, and he was in his glory impressing the heck out of his dad. After that, every so often, I would call him that when he came out to the shop.

Fast forward a few years later when I took a class with Marc Spagnuolo at a woodworking school in Indiana. While Marc was showing his mastery of woodworking, I showed that I was still a little rough around the edges in my technique. He was trying to pump up my confidence, and I, recalling that moment back in my shop, started referring to myself as the trained shop monkey.

When I got back to Florida, I joked with my sons that I had taken the title of trained shop monkey from my oldest. They kids were laughing, but I could see the gears starting to spin in their heads.

The following month, when Father’s Day rolled around, my wife told me that we were going on a little trip. We piled into the car and headed over to International Mall in Tampa.

Right to the Build-A-Bear Workshop.

The kids wanted to make sure that I had my own shop monkey. So, the Adoption Experts helped me select the right monkey. We stuffed that little guy and gave him an air bath, as is customary for all animals adopted there. We also selected the proper boots and clothes for a day in the shop, and a tool belt. Of course, my youngest son pointed out, I couldn’t forget the safety glasses.

Sure, it was a silly gift. But, whenever I’m having a tough day at work and a long night of speaking at hurricane seminars, I can come home, kiss the kids goodnight while they sleep and take a quick glance at Iggy before I head out to the shop.

That reminds me that my little shop monkeys really do care about their dad.

To all the fathers out there, have a very happy Father’s Day.

Just where the heck have I been?

For months, I’ve been writing like crazy, putting post after woodworking post on this site. But, recently, things have slowed down. Is it because I don’t want to punish you anymore with my warped sense of humor or lousy writing?

Nah, I’m not that nice.

Actually, it has to do with my day – and more and more and more frequently night – job. I am a hurricane preparedness specialist with Pinellas County government here on the west coast of Florida. Hurricane season has begun for the tropical Atlantic basin, and we’re in harm’s way.

So, for the past few months, I’ve been out talking to homeowner groups, businesses, schools, city meetings and anyone else who will listen about the importance of being prepared. Some folks get it, planning to evacuate from vulnerable areas and shuttering their windows. Other people aren’t convinced there is at threat.

Now, that’s scary.

What does this have to do with woodworking? Well, maybe it’s not fine furniture, but it’s woodworking nonetheless. A few years ago, I was out speaking to a group of homeowners, and someone said, “You tell us to put up this plywood, but we don’t know how to begin.”

The idea struck me. Since I hadn’t shuttered my windows, it was time that I started to practice what I preached. I quickly scratched out a plan to cover my windows with plywood and show all the steps – from selecting the materials to cutting to fastening them to protect my windows.

Later that week, we were on our way to the local Home Depot to begin shooting. Stupid me couldn’t have had this idea earlier in the year, when it wasn’t so blazing hot during June afternoons in Florida. Sweat stained and all, I demonstrated the necessary steps to show people how to get ready. And, yes, you get to see some of my tools in my shop!

How successful was it? Well, today, whenever I am out shopping or at a restaurant, someone always calls me out as the Plywood Guy. I have also had dozens of offers from homeowners to come to their homes to shutter their windows. Hey, I’m a full service guy, but that’s a little too much for me!

If you want to watch this video – or any of the other hurricane safety videos I star in – visit our county’s hurricane video page.

And, if you live anywhere near the coast, it doesn’t hurt to take the advice I give to our residents – you have got to have a plan when it comes to hurricanes. You can review our county’s hurricane guide as a .PDF here.

Remember, the Atlantic Hurricane Season runs from June 1 through November 30.

That’s why I’m always so happy to see the first week of December.

It’s been said that you never forget your first time.

If that’s the case, then I’m really scratching my head as to why I got into woodworking as a hobby.

Let’s hit the rewind button on the way back machine. The year, 1982. There I was, a skinny kid growing up in Bloomingdale, New Jersey. I was in seventh grade at Walter T. Bergen Middle School. The big time. You see, in sixth grade, things were just like they were in elementary school – you stayed in your classroom most of the day, leaving only for phys ed, art, music and lunch.

But, seventh graders actually got to change classes. This was my first experience going to a math teacher’s room. A history teacher’s room. A science teacher’s room. It was totally new, and a lot more fun than sitting in the same classroom all day.

Another very important thing happened to me – all seventh graders got to do a semester in wood shop class. Woah. Power tools. Visions of being the best in this class danced in my head.

Unfortunately, I had to get through a semester of Home Economics in the fall first. The food part wasn’t that bad, but the sewing was a nightmare. I ended up making a pair of sweatpants that had no business being worn in public.

But, as the spring semester began, we were off to wood shop. Mr. Kirkegard was a very patient man, and, judging from his looks, he was probably big into the counter-culture movement of the late 1960’s or early 1970’s. Far out, man.

We spent the first few weeks learning how to draft. While I was trying to align a T-Square and a drafting triangle with a sheet of paper, my eyes kept wandering to the big gray Delta Unisaw and the bank of power tools against the wall. Oh, yeah, I was going to DIG cutting wood!

How disappointed I was to discover how tight the restrictions were for the tools. No table saw. The band saw and drill press were to be used under tight supervision. And, even the power disc/belt sander was monitored carefully. Bummer.

I think those first few weeks of actually working wood were to get an idea of who knew what and who was not going to be trustworthy near the tools. My suspicions were confirmed when we were allowed to pick our assignments.

Some of the brightest and the best were allowed to build turned salt and pepper shakers. Most of the kids were allowed to build cutting boards in various shapes. (We were told we could make cutting boards in the shape of a hand with a finger extended – but only ONE particular finger was forbidden, if you catch my drift.)

Me, well, I was assigned a coat hanger. A poplar board cut – say – 18″ by 6″, with three 3/4″ holes bored into it. Then, I was given three lengths of 1″ dowel and a stack of sandpaper, and told to sand the dowels down until they fit the holes.

I must have REALLY impressed him….

So, while the other kids in class were building their creations, I sat at my work table and sanded the ends of three dowels for weeks. It was tedious and my hand hurt, but I was going to make those dowels fit come heck or high water.

Well, the big day arrived. Mr. Kirkegard came over to me with a bottle of glue and a mallet. “So, Tom, you ready to assemble your project?”

Uhh, the other kids were busy finishing theirs, so I guess it must have been time. I nodded my assent, then handed over the components. He smeared glue on the sanded end and tried to fit it into the hole. It was a tight fit. He pounded on the dowel with his mallet. He was getting frustrated, and I think I heard him muttering something under his breath while he worked. It finally surrendered and went into the hole.

The same thing happened with dowel two. However, while he was driving dowel number three home, the poplar board split down the middle. Mr. Kirkegard stood over the piece for a second, looking down with hatred in his eyes. As if on cue, dowels number two and one took that opportunity to tip over out of the now too-large holes, roll off the bench and clatter to the floor, trailing wood glue in their wake.

Stoically, Mr, Kirkegard picked up the board, retrieved the wayward dowels, and stepped into his office. The door shut with a resounding thud and the bell rang shortly after.

At the end of the semester, I opened my report card to see I had gotten a C in shop class. I’m not sure what ever happened to the project, but, if you go to the Passaic County, New Jersey landfill and dig back through 26 years of refuse, I’ll bet you’ll find an unautographed Tom Iovino original piece of art.

I love this time of the year in sports. The NCAA men’s basketball championships are in full swing, and the competition is fierce. Perennial powerhouse schools such as Georgetown, Duke and the University of Connecticut are out, and long shot schools like Davidson and Western Kentucky are still dancing.

I run a pool for the men’s championship with some friends from around the country. How am I doing? Well, let’s just say my new nickname is ‘Foundation.’ I don’t know how I can get much worse.

Perhaps if I had the chance to see each of the 65 teams entered in the brackets, I might have had a better handle on how they would perform under the bright lights of national attention.

In much the same way, I have picked more than my share of loser tools. After woodworking for ten years, I have a collection of gadgets and gee-gaws that the inventor no doubt thought would change the face of woodworking forever. And, based on the reviews of some users, I fell hard for them, only to be terribly disappointed by their performance.

If only I had the chance to handle the tools before I could buy them…

Well, this past weekend, I had just that opportunity. The Woodworking Shows expo came to Tampa, and I figured it would be a good idea to mosey over and have myself a look.

If you have ever been to a woodworking expo before, you might be a little jaded by the experience. One of the nearly universal sentiments is the shows aren’t what they used to be. Time was, you were able to go to a show and score an excellent deal on a sweet tool, get to meet the innovators themselves and network with woodworkers from your area. “The Internet is killing the show experience,” many woodworkers claim, because everything you could do at the show, you could easily find or do online.

That may be so, but I have a very different take on things.

From the moment I walked in to the Florida Fairgrounds just outside of Tampa, I was like a kid in a candy store. The floor of the Fairgrounds arena was covered with booths from manufacturers demonstrating their tools. Other areas were set aside for training sessions. And, the place was packed!

What were my observations?

Well, getting to talk with the representatives of the different tool companies gave me a fresh perspective on woodworking – and the tools I already own. I spoke with Henry Wang, inventor of the Grr-ipper push block system. I had purchased one of the Grr-ippers a few years ago just to make narrow rip cuts on the table saw. Shortly after, I walked away from the booth shaking my head. How could I have gone for two years without knowing what the tool could do?

Every time I look at a tool that I want in a catalog or online, I find myself wondering just how big it is or how it feels in my hand. Is it something that’s substantial I will use for years, or just a use one time and throw it away in disgust type of tool? When I turned a corner at the show and saw a huge booth by Lee Valley tools, my heart started to race. Rack after rack of neatly arrayed tools were on display. I got the chance to feel how the Veritas bevel up smoother plane was different than the Veritas low-angle smoother plane. Something I couldn’t quite understand from the catalog description.

There was a wealth of knowledge there for the taking. Jim Heavey of Wood Magazine was offering a series of woodworking seminars. I watched him for about 30 minutes, and learned about six techniques I am going to add to my work. Sure, the information is out there on the Internet and in books, but I was able to stand next to him and look at how everything was set up. I could even ask questions and get immediate responses as well.

Also, I was able to meet people who shared the passion for woodworking I have. Again, I am an active poster on many woodworking forums, but the opportunity to shake hands with people goes a long way.

I left the woodworking show after three hours a little lighter in the wallet, but the experience was well worth it.

And, it took my mind off of the sting of making such lousy picks in my NCAA tournament pool.

OK, I’m sitting here in my living room, reading the same woodworking magazines over and over again and watching a few taped episodes of the New Yankee Workshop while I suffer through a bad cold.

I’m sure you are not the least bit interested in hearing about my health. However, this does remind me of a woodworking experience.

Back in 1999, I had promised my sister-in-law that I would finish a little train table for my nephew. He was huge into Thomas the Tank Engine, and she wanted a place to set up his tracks.

As I was getting to the end of the project, I got nailed by a bad bug. I was running a low-grade fever, my head was clogged and I could barely get out of bed.

But, there I was in the shop, trying to concentrate on getting the final coat of finish on the project in time for the tyke’s birthday party.

If you have a similar story, send it my way at tom@tomsworkbench.com, and I’ll post some of the more interesting entries. I can’t promise you any fabulous prizes, a new Unisaw or a whole catalog’s worth of Lie Nielson planes, but, can I interest you in a few dirty tissues and cough drop wrappers?