I was not what most would consider “a good student” in high school. In fact, I feel like I should be paid royalties every time the phrase “[Insert name here] would be an A student if only he’d apply himself” is used to describe an underperforming student.
Math was and remains my least-favorite subject. I hated algebra with every ounce of my soul and pretty much stunk up the room in every math class I ever took. In my many failed attempts at college, I was assigned to math classes which were the grown-up equivalent of “Johnny has two apples and Mary has three…..” and I still couldn’t master it.
In fact, I once spent a class period pop quiz writing a two-page essay on how “finding the value of “x” will have no bearing on my career as a journalist.
[Note: I got a “B” for creativity, but still bombed the class]
For the most part, I was right. I don’t use math very much. Pretty much every stat I need during the course of a game day is at my electronic disposal and if it’s not, chances are some other geek in the press box is already calculating it and will post it on Twitter. So … no math.
And then I started woodworking, which brings me to my modern-day, real-life equivalent of algebra class: angles. Angles, miters and bevels, you are my nemesis. I hate you with every ounce of my soul. I keep thinking I’d like to start working with better lumber than dimensional crap from Menards or HD, but then I look at my scrap bin and realize “you ain’t there yet, boy.”
I’ve been willing to admit defeat, and have picked up a couple of helpful tools, namely a digital angle gauge to stick on my blades; protractors, t-bevels and so on and so forth. And just when I think I’ve cut a perfect angle … my corners don’t line up.
Practice makes perfect and patience is a virtue, I know. But with a few days left before Christmas, I’m trying to fight off the frustration.
Image may be NSFW.
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