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This guy is one of my favorite makers to watch. He always makes something interesting. This time, the world's most elaborate pinhole camera...

Sniper free* Deck Brunch *But how would you know, really?

Listened to Lenny White's first two albums. Lots of talent and creativity. A ton of funk. I should of liked them more than I did. I may have to try again another time. Now listening to Scofield. This satisfies.

The Riven remake is here:

The grassy knoll was taken.

Well it's the last day of Pride Month, and I can't think of a better ending than this...

I posted this in the photography thread as well, but it has enough woodworking to apply here also...

Did a sniper take the second picture?

Laurent Lamarca's Tranquille Ex.

Finally got to Howlin' Ray's for a hot chicken sandwich and it was excellent! Went with Medium+ heat level at my brother's suggestion, but should have gone all the way to hot. No multiple hour line on a Friday at 4:00pm. In fact no line at all.

My first exposure to Alan Holdsworth was when I was in high school and my guitar teacher gave me a homemade tape with several different guitarists on it. The song Rhoad Games sounded unique. It's what got me into him. Since then, its been a regular album that I revisit from time to time.

P.p.s.

I just watched a YouTube video on a newish product called Obsidian Ebony. True Gabon Ebony is expensive and not that easy to come by, as it's also endangered. This product is designed as an alternative, though I haven't compared pricing yet. This product is best suited for plugs, splines, decorative inlays and such. As in larger pieces it's not as passable due to it's lack of Brown streaks common in real Ebony. Ebony is quite brittle and this product is similar, though not quite as brittle as real Ebony. It seems to polish up to the same dull glow as actual Ebony. It's just more uniformly Black than real Ebony. It's generally made from Maple, though some companies are also using Birch. I think Maple would be better suited, as it's a denser, harder wood than Birch. It's made by thermally modifying Maple (or Birch) to a dark Black/Brown color throughout the entire thickness of the wood. This process is also known as torrefaction. After the heat modification, the wood is infused with colored resin under pressure. It not only gives a consistent color throughout the grain, but also stabilizes the wood to a large extent. I'm planning on building some game boards soon, and am thinking of trying this product out as an inlay strip. Hopefully more to follow. https://sustainablebiz.ca/thermalwood-canada-sees-obsidian-as-sustainable-alternative-to-ebony#:~:text=Obsidian is produced by taking,and tonal characteristics of ebony.

For the most part I agree Antonio. But I think most people have a misunderstanding of the the term gay pride. It's not about being proud to have sexual relations with the same sex. It's not about being proud to have romantic relations with the same sex. It's about being proud of how far we've come in society. It wasn't but a handful of years ago that we could be imprisoned for being homosexual. It's only been a few decades ago that we were dragged out of bars and beaten by police for dancing with each other. It's been even less time since Ronald Reagan refused to take any action whatsoever about AIDS, and was happy to watch large populations of gay people die. And now when we've just begun to make some headway, the Republican party wants to pull the rights we've earned away again. Good luck putting the genie back in the bottle.

It's funny how we're all so afraid of the word prejudice. It's taken on such a negative connotation, and rightly so, due to the way we've treated those different from ourselves. I've heard many times a Black person say that they can't be racist, like it's an impossibility. It's generally thrown on the shoulders of White people. I get the basic idea, but it's incorrect. Every human on this earth is susceptible to racism. Each and every one of us has the capacity to hate someone different than ourselves. If you break the word prejudice down, it literally means to pre-judge. Most Black people do that every time they're pulled over by a White cop. That's in no way to imply that they don't have damn good reason to do so, it's just describing what past experiences cause them to do. We all do it. Some out of a healthy sense of fear. Some out of an ignorant sense of hate. But it's still pre-judging. The way through that for me was to immerse myself in someone else's world. I've told this story here before, but in the mid 80's I moved into a new group of condos near a lake in Anchorage. It was a very nice part of town. It's was during a recession in the country, and these brand new condos weren't selling. They ended up renting them, and still had to entice people with lots of extras. I had free utilities, a washer and dryer installed in the unit, two underground parking spaces etc... I asked a Black friend to move in with me, since it was a two bedroom. Shortly after moving in, he went to walk his dog by the lake around 6:00 at night. Being winter, it was dark. He was gone for over an hour for what was normally a 10 minute walk on a very cold night. Finally there was a knock on the door. I opened it to see two cops holding him. They didn't asked me if he lived there, but instead stated "This man claims to live here". I immediately got cocky (because I'm White, and didn't have a fear of cops) and spat out "because he fucking does". The more worked up I got, the more that my Black roommate tried to calm me down, even though they were still holding both of his arms as though he was a criminal about to bolt at any second. It took a while to get them to let him go. I was fuming! "What's the sentence for walking a dog while Black"? I was really laying into them. Living with a Black person really opens your eyes to what they live with on a regular basis. The shit that should be so simple and benign can be dangerous if you are of another color other than White. I don't think you can truly experience that kind of overt racism from a distance. To follow up on that incident... My best friend at that time was named Zoya. Zoya's parents loved me, as I loved them. Zoya's father was a Lutienent at APD (Anchorage Police Department). I passed on the incident and badge numbers. They had met my roommate many times. I'm not sure if getting their asses chewed out caused them to slow down and think things through, but it sure made my roommate and myself feel better.

On a related note Steve, I found your retirement job in Knoxville tn. It’s a place called vintage lumber. No matter the context you’ve got to be their ideal employee.

Here in Australia it was a very similar situation, lots of bashings and murders of gay men throughout the seventies and eighties, I can’t imagine how awful that would have been for a gay man growing up with all that going on. Steve I truly admire your bravery, you must have very big balls. Btw I’m the happy father of a gay son, I’m more proud than I could ever have imagined to be.

That's a beautiful piece! My parents were racist. They'd never admit to that, and probably actually believe that they were not racist. But I grew up in a house where the "N" word was used often. I remember my Mom telling me not to make friends with Black kids in school, because they couldn't be trusted. Even though I understood from an early age that way of thinking was wrong, some of that prejudice is bound to seep through. That's why racism is so prevalent. Because it's passed on through generations, because kids think their parents have the answers. My oldest Brother was my moral compass throughout my childhood and still today. He taught me to disregard that ideology, and that our parents were just wrong. I fought that ideology, sometimes to the backlash of my parents. Through the years my Father became less and less racist. I know that was a hard thing for him, as his parents were even more racist than he was. I'll never forget the day my Father happily helped my gay, Black friend fix the brakes on his car. That was a highpoint for me. It's amazing watching your parents grow up. My Mother is better, but still says absolutely stupid, racist shit from time to time. I don't let those moments pass, and that does piss her off. Too bad. I'll never stop. I recognize that some of that stupid shit seeped into me at an early age. I also recognize that I have the education to rationalize how ridiculous those ideas are. I've had 4 Black roommates, all at different times in my life. That drove my Mother crazy. She couldn't understand it. I sought out those roommates on purpose. They were friends first, but when the opportunity came to share an apartment, I chose to do so to help my own growth and understanding. I wanted to counter my upbringing. I definitely believe it helped me push back against not only my parents ideas, but all of my Texas relatives racist views that I was also subjected to in my childhood. Some of whom would flabbergast you with their pure hate towards other races. It's OK to grow up with those ideas. It's immoral not to fight back against those ideas.