"I'm not making 300 of anything"

So, I'm making 300 round aluminum/plywood tops for a stool/table to go into new buildings.
I remember saying I wasn't going to go into production of anything quite vividly as if it were only a couple years ago. Plans move slow when you're talking about building new buildings.
But Ken and I were coming back from something in his truck when the project was first brought up.  In my head, nothing could be further from what I want to do as making 300 of the same thing.
I said no way, no how. No.
One offs.  That's what I do.
I was reading a great essay/article "The Quest for Mastery Through Production Work" by Jarrod Dahl and that changed my opinion.  I told Ken I would do it.

These are the first 64 of them.  The ply cut into squares.

 Just moments after this photo, the stack crumbles onto Damian's painting behind.  I apologized to Damian for putting rips in his not yet sold painting and he lets off the hook pretty easy.  Said no big deal to repair them.

I take a walk out to Garden Buddha to say thanks

Cement applied to the two surfaces.

Why waste cement by putting it where it doesn't need to be?
Made a circle cutting jig for the bandsaw and ran them through.

Table is angled to give a bevel to the cut.

Then like a bus driver turning the big horizontal steering wheel, the cuts are smoothed on a belt sander.  Like slowly turning right while wearing hearing protection.  Although I know next to nothing about pattern makers, I did learn a little trick from them of watching the very edge of the top surface.  When you can see it just barely starting to turn upward, you know to stop.  Creates the finest of wire edges.

The little piece of green tape on the circle tells me where to start and stop.  Without it, you're always guessing on if you've turned the bus enough to get back to the starting point.

I also gradually stepped up the sanding jig so I could access fresh parts of the sanding belt.

The cut-offs (which are often times more interesting than the main piece) are unceremoniously tossed in the back of Ken's truck.  I didn't want them and he'll rip off the aluminum and recycle it.

Bonus pic of not an industrial product.

From the General's Residence to Fitbit

photo by my brother's son Will Kirchner


 Life altering things took place overlooking the bay behind the decommissioned General's Residence in Fort Mason.  A two year life altering time leading up to the backward slow motion walk with Taylor.
I'll try and take you from there to Fitbit.
The day before the pass off was the Tribal Feast where my people from mostly East Coast met the mostly West Coast people.  Our place.
The big equipment was wheeled out the new doors.

New doors bulge in the shed's windows.

Blue body cream bottle in light circle marks the spot where the fire pit was built for the two big paellas to cook. (Thank you Henry.  Thank you Laurine.)

Pre-mixed cocktails are chosen.

My brother's son, Will decides after the wedding he should stay with us for a few weeks.

His very first shipment of his new clothing business shows up from Guatemala.

At the same time, our next door neighbor who had moved on decides to move back.

Also at the same time, I learn a lesson from NapaJon.  About getting rid of stuff you don't really need or even want.  Slimming down and making it more visually succinct.

More is more, less is less.  Just right is just right.

Cary had a gig at The Utah.  Pretty good gig.  All the words were remembered, all the chords were right.
Waiting for the opening act to finish up.  I buy his CD, although it's not out yet. Will Griffith from Mississippi.

And Cary.

Well, it seems like it's four years old at this point.  I had built an outdoor table, a 16' long table for a winery in Paso Robles back in 2014.  I have been back a couple times to give it some loving maintenance.  The first couple years it had zero shade from the often time 100 degree heat and that took it's toll.
This year I went back to beef it up with some angle steel and carriage bolts, another coat of finish.

The vegetation overhead helps a lot from the sun.

Every time I'm in Paso I end up in San Miguel because The Elkhorn is there.  Second oldest bar in California.  I had to go twice because I forgot my glasses in there the first night.  The photo is from the second time.  The night before I sat next to a guy with swastika tattoos.  He was talking with the woman bartender about tying a hangman noose.  The right number of knots.   She was holding up a small noose someone tied for her the night before.  There was a much bigger one hanging over the cash register.  They seemed perfectly at ease with the whole concept.  The man sitting on the other side of me owned a high end restaurant and was the not the sort that talked about nooses.  I guess it balanced out.

From there I ended up at NASA and TequilaJohn's award he was getting.  A group of his drinking friends from The Utah headed down to Mt. View and the NASA Ames Research Center to watch him get acknowledged for "Exceptional contributions to NASA's robotic space flight missions by performing critical flight roles, increasing science return, and infusing novel technologies."  I felt proud just knowing him.
We were soundly dressed down by the NASA police (who knew they had their own force?) for not using the crosswalk to walk across a street.  Apparently they didn't understand what a bunch of misfits we were.  We also had to prove our U.S. Of FuckingA citizenship to get onto the base.
No photos of the event because I didn't know if they allowed cameras on the site.

Which leads me to last night.  I head over to Fitbit and it's happiest of happy hours to be a witness signing for the wedding license that should have been signed weeks ago.  The dates will have to be fudged because legally it should have done weeks ago.
It was such a most perfect way to end this trip from two years ago.  Sitting with Taylor and talking about everything, looking at photos of her and Nick (my new son) diving in the South Pacific, having some beer and putting my signature on this.

Cameras are ok at NASA but at Fitbit, I....guess this was ok to take.

This morning.

Let me shoot your feet

I've been shooting for this wine conglomerate for a few years now.  French company, they have thirty American wine brands, they do spirits too.
His heart and hands are all over the company.  Never met the Head of it though until today.
He asked where I lived.
"Oakland.  Let me shoot your feet."

He didn't blink an eye.  For real.
"Here, let me get the sock just right for you."

Two exposures and he walks out the door.

His branding is way way off Napa's map.  Way.  Where everybody else is either trying to be staid as a funeral for a dignitary or 'Let us tie a bandana around your hippy dog', his brand is over the top flamboyancy glitz.  Gold leaf plexiglass table with videos of him playing, leopard skin covered turtle shell chrome ball stuffed white lovebirds.  And that's the staid stuff of the flamboyance.

Never been in this particular room before.  Very difficult moving photo stuff around without loud and easily broken things taking a nose dive to a level below.

This is after the bottle and the gift box is taken out of the shot.

The Decisive Moment

It's coming soon.

I'm going to admit, getting a perfect moment when everything Tetris' into place, I don't do well. I'm OK with that.  The above is, what, 30% there, maybe less.  But I'm thinking if it's something I want to do better, going to San Francisco's City Hall everyday would be like going to school for it.

People are getting married, hell, today maybe even people and a dog got married at City Hall.  Groups of self absorbed are getting married, it's a perfect school for Decisive Moment to be taught.  No one is paying attention to you and they move and bounce off of each other like Pong before the viewfinder.
So maybe I'll come back and get me some schooling.  But today I'm going to room 168 to watch Taylor and Nick check if all the information is true and correct and then sign.  I got there early of course and watched.  Cried some.

Waiting for #0243 to be called (behind the black line) and then to go to window 1 in room 168.

The clerk asked if all the information on the form was true and correct.  One maiden name threw me for real loop.  Like how could I forget how to spell the name of someone's mother and someone's wife.  We had to check the internet while standing at #1 in room 168.  No photos, videos allowed.
The dog came in with the hat guy, the two of them sat down along with a female person in 168 before a black robed judge and he looked like he married the three of them.

Pose is great, but I missed the rest of it.  Gotta get into that school.

Loved the clerk, she did her job beautifully with giving us just the right amount of time to decide if it were all true and correct.

Leaving after witnessing the signing.

See the short haired woman who is directly above the kid with the bowtie?  She had such a blessed face as I passed her.  It was her decisive moment.  You knew she knew it too.


The formalities were not.  Both came from work, the formalities become formal during their decisive moment coming oh so soon.

City Hall, San Francisco, California, September 5, 2018

Cried some biking to Bart, cried some now.  Decisive Moments can be a lifetime getting to them.


"So Rarely do we see another one
so close and so long"

Bill Callahan