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As I wrote the other day, I am obsessed with How It’s Made, the show on The Science Channel–in HD–that takes viewers on tours of factories and workshops that make everything from halogen lightbulbs to aluminum ladders to carbon fiber cellos.

Tonight I watched as they made bamboo fly rods, and it was amazing.  I have no interest in fishing, but the craftsmanship that goes into a bamboo rod is something to behold.  Briefly, the rodsmith splits a cane into six thin strips, sands off the bumps, glues them together to form two long hexagonal prisms.  To this he adds several layers of lacquer, and applies a dozen or so small rings of cork which are glued together to make a handle, which is then smoothed out with a lathe, all placed above an exquisite walnut end-piece.  Finally the rings that guide the line are fixed with cotton thread and coated with lacquer, and, ta da, it’s a fishing pole.

Generally, it’s difficult to ascertain who is making the items profiled on How It’s Made.  They don’t show exteriors of a factory with a big sign out front.  But I happened to catch the name of the maker of the fly rods shown in this episode when the craftsman wrote the model name in perfect cursive above the handle in Indian ink.  The rods were made by Thomas and Thomas, and the particular model depicted was called the Hendrickson.  Guess how much… (more…)

It is the birthday of two of my friends today, so I wish them both another year of happiness.

It’s hard to believe how long I have known Steve and Jennifer, and it makes me feel old to consider it, but let me, anyway:

I met Steve in the Spring of 1992. He was a friend of a friend. I was 15, and I think he was 17. Steve liked skateboarding, rap and The Cure, whom I had heard of before, but never heard. Don’t ask how I had never heard them, but my uninformed idea at the time was that they might be a heavy metal band, like Poison. It just made sense to me. Steve had lots of bad friends at the time who took advantage of his family’s kindness and generous nature. Joe Lupico and I were bad friends who encouraged Steve to do things that would have dishonored his parents. Sorry about that, Steve.

I met Jennifer in 1996. She was a friend of my girlfriend at the time, and was only 16 years old, I think; just a girl. By the next year, when she graduated high school, we were close friends. I remember hanging out at her house in East Lake Woodlands (or maybe it was another neighborhood), and in the Summer of 1997, I drove to Tampa often to visit her when she lived with her aunt. One night we talked so long in her car that the ice cream I had just bought completely melted, and didn’t taste good later on. Thanks a lot, Jennifer!

Interesting fact about Steve and Jennifer: They both look better than ever. Happy birthday, guys.