Demonstrating
Glenn Hodges
>One day this summer I was turning a bowl up in East Glacier Park, Montana as about 4 people were watching me, a guy walked up to the group and asked me what kind of wood I was turning. I could tell from his tone of voice he was a kind of know it all, smart aleck, type, so I told him, as I stoped the lathe, I thought it was birch. He swipped his finger across the wet wood on my lathe and touched his finger to his tounge, and replied that it didn't taste like birch. I said loud enough for the group to hear, "Well, it probably doesn't taste like birch because I put it by that wood fence over there last year, and that is those dogs favorate place to pee, but you can look at the bark over here and see that it is definately birch." I thought the group of people never would stop laughing and howling. Sometimes I just don't like smart mouths messing with my stuff, and sometimes they wish they had left it alone. Back at home now in time for Frances.
Nashville, Georgia