The Old Man and The Sea? See? Saw!!! The Old Man and the Saw.

This is Dad's Saw. It's old. OLD. It's older than my youngest sister. It's lived a long life, cut many a board, sheet of drywall and the like. It even cut it's own cord.

(That was not a good day.....my siblings and I quickly learned that Dad was NOT in good humor, and gave him a wide berth all day. Not good. Not good at all.)



The Saw made the trip to Altoona with Dad. They worked together to make some shelves for a cabinet that also made the trip from Michigan. Midway through a cut for shelf number four, The Saw stopped. It died. Gave up the ghost. Kicked the bucket. It just up and quit.

Dad optimistically assumed he blew a fuse.

Nope.

Perhaps a faulty extension cord?

No, not so much.

The Saw was old. The Saw lived a good life. The Saw was gone. It's gone to the great lumberyard in the sky.....or something.

Dad was devastated. I was no help. I just giggled. Uncontrollably. (It was funny!) I'm not sure whether Dad appreciated my attempts at a eulogy or not.......

Well, YOU try to eulogize a power tool you barely knew!

So Dad called Mom.....immediately.


I distinctly recall hearing Mom laugh heartily as well as she urged him to go out and buy another saw. This was not the sympathy Dad was seeking.

The next morning we went off to Sears and Dad (begrudgingly) bought another saw.

(This was after he wishfully plugged The Saw into the outlet one last time, hoping it would roar back to life. Nope. Still dead.)

Dad and The New Saw.

The New Saw eyed The (Old) Saw suspiciously. I think the cut (and spliced back together) cord made it a bit nervous.


The New Saw is pretty darn fancy, as far a circular saws go. It has a work light, a laser light and a wrench attached for the occasional blade change. All things The (Old) Saw didn't have. The First Cut was made without much fan fare...well.....with the exception of me snapping pictures.

(What? I'm always looking for good blog fodder.)




The (Old) Saw has been replaced. I tried to throw it away, but Dad wanted to take it home. Why do I get a sinking feeling it may end up buried in the backyard next to the dog?