Say, that's not a banana in your pocket

I'd like to tell you about an unforgettable incident. It's a good story, the classic tale of Man versus machine and it even has a moral, sort of.

I was teaching an introduction to woodworking class, that is, I was attempting to convince a class of university students there are correct and incorrect methods for using power tools. The class was principally for art majors and was required if they wanted to use the art department’s workshop.

One of the first lessons I learned as a university lecturer was the male students already knew everything there was to know, at least that’s what they said. The young men usually told me they didn’t need advice and, true to form, they ignored safety protocols. The reason most often stated was because their dads and uncles had showed them manly ways of using tools.

Women students generally made a point of telling me they wanted to know the correct and safest ways to use table saws, band saws and so forth. I really liked women students. They were eager to learn and willing to listen. What is it that teachers pray for? Oh yes, teachable students. Also, they didn’t grunt and do the rutting elk thing as did many of the 2o year old young men when corrected of a dangerous technique.

This saga occurred during a class with an enrollment limited to fifteen. There were fourteen women in the class and one young man. For the sake of this story I will refer to this fellow as, “Ed”. Ed was there for one reason - the fourteen women.

Ed's intentions were as obvious as a blinking neon sign and since he already knew everything, he freely offered advice to his classmates. For their part they ignored both his assistance and his advances. The women never said a word about Ed during class time but I imagine once outside the classroom they probably said a whole lot.

One of my safety lectures concerned loose long hair, wearing jewelry and baggy clothes while working in the shop - the lecture was simple, don’t wear these things around power tools. For the most part students got the message. Sleeves were either buttoned or rolled up, long hair was done up in pony tails and rings and necklaces were taken off.

On the afternoon of this story the class had been in session for several weeks and the students were working on a project of making a box. This type of lesson stresses basic tool procedures and it offers the opportunity to include the use of hand-powered tools - drills and sanders mostly.

Setting the scene. The box pieces were cut and all the students were working at the large work benches, usually there were two people at each bench. They were preparing to assemble and finish their box project.

Ed was being Ed and was roaming amongst the women as if he was lord of the manor. Apparently his box project would miraculously appear when grading time was near.

I had shown everyone how to safely use a 4’ by 24” belt sander - the biggest, baddest and best of belt sanders. It’s a heavy thing weighing over 12 pounds. For those unfamiliar with this tool, 4" by 24" refers to the width and circumference of the sanding belt. In use, the belt continuously travels around front and rear rollers. Here’s what one looks like:
As long as the belt sander is kept flat on the work surface and the operator keeps a firm grip it’s a very efficient tool. But it is very powerful. Held loosely, the sander can run away from the operator or quickly remove lots of wood from one spot if it isn’t kept moving.

The portable belt sander was previously unknown to the women. It certainly isn't in the toolbox of most homeowners and renters. But the belt sander is a fantastic tool for aggressively smoothing flat surfaces. Of course Ed already knew this.

Anyway, Ed was walking from woman to woman flirting and commenting on their projects. Ed was also wearing a loose fitting mechanic’s or aviator-styled jump suit. He told me he wasn’t using the machines that day so the jump suit wouldn’t be an issue. OK, I said with some reservation ... but I also decided not to take my eyes off him.

One of the women felt especially awkward using the belt sander and seeing this, prowling Ed decided it was a perfect moment to display his prowess. Acting macho heroic, he aggressively took the sander from her and in a swift motion pulled its trigger and ...

Do you recall Sam Peckinpah’s “The Wild Bunch” and how Sam filmed gun fights in slow motion? That was how the fourteen women and myself watched Ed’s next move.

Imagine, a tall skinny guy wearing a baggy jump suit activating a 12 pound belt sander at the edge of a workshop bench top. In a blink, but in slow motion to the rest of us, the belt sander grabbed the material of the loose jump suit and instantly wound the cloth tightly into the sander. Since the bench height was waist level, or crotch level for Ed, he now had the heavy sander stuck between his legs. Thankfully he wasn’t injured but he did have a sander precariously attached in a location young men generally don’t want seen as an embarrassment.

The fourteen women did not say a word. Nor did they giggle, guffaw, laugh or utter a peep. Ed vainly attempted to unwrap the sander from his crotch area, but it was hopeless.

Without a saying a word he unplugged the sander and awkwardly walked bow legged from the workshop with the belt sander dangling between his legs.

Thirty minutes later the workshop door partially opened. No one was visible but a hand and arm came through the opening and a belt sander was deposited on the floor just inside the room. The door closed and minutes later the class erupted in laughter and applause.

Epilogue

The next day Ed gave me his drop slip. The fourteen women and I never saw Ed again.