Perfection? Never, Ever!

You May Have the Wrong Impression About Me…

Not sure where I’m going with this but I’m feeling confessional today, if that’s the right word.

Some of you seem to have the wrong impression, thinking that projects I’ve shared here in photos have been “beautiful,” “perfect,” or even (of all things) “a work of art.”  I sincerely appreciate kind words and the fact that you’re reading this stuff at all, but it might be time to share tidbits about my background, and how for eight decades I’ve avoided the pointless trap of perfectionism.

Although I admire those who craft seemingly perfect, gorgeous pieces of furniture, I’ve never aspired to “fine woodworking.” To do that, my tools would have to be sharper; my attention to details improved 1000%. Geez, I might even have to slow down and learn to make dovetail joints…or neatly organize tools on pegboard wall panels. No, thanks!

My Resume in 99 Words:

I’ve been boating my entire life, and building them since age 10, imagining I’d become a boatbuilder. But instead I was a newspaper reporter through the 1960’s, and a magazine editor in the 1970’s. I then launched a stock-photo library, managing it for years before selling. I bought the failing Wooden Boat Shop store and launched a separate boat-restoration business, until retiring in 2017. From age 10 to now, I’ve never been without a boat, and at least one boatbuilding or restoration project. And I’ve happily been working with Josh on Small Craft Advisor for the past decade.

Some Things I’ve Learned:

·      I love and welcome change, and the chance to learn different skills.

·      I’ve enjoyed not knowing each day, week or month exactly what I’d be working on next, or what new challenges I’d face.

·      Deadlines, I’ve discovered, are invaluable. If you don’t have them, you don’t learn to produce, or help others to become more productive and successful.

·      Tied to all of the above, I’ve learned how to work with others in different fields, while slowly figuring out that personal satisfaction peaks when I’m connecting hands to brain, taking on weird little design-and-build challenges almost daily; and savoring how fortunate I am to be doing this work—any work so rewarding and fun—deep into retirement.

·      Along the way I’ve concluded that perfectionism is a ridiculous pursuit. It takes too long, it’s not obtainable, and what’s the point anyway?

So, the reward for me when working on a boat project is “all of the above:” Different challenges and learning opportunities every day; lots of ways to express dabs of creativity; deadlines so that I finish the job, and the joy of sharing what I’ve created, learned or experienced with others.

As a kid I rarely cleaned my bedroom. I’ve failed many times in life, learning more from mistakes than from successes. I’ve always driven old trucks that looked like my childhood bedroom. My work spaces are a disaster but I manage to find everything needed. I show up every day, keep pecking away and am known for a willingness to take on hopeless (read foolish) restoration challenges…and somehow get them back in the water. (To be clear, I’ve lost oodles of cash on some of those lost-cause projects, so my passion for rotten boats is only seen as a virtue by fellow travelers.)

Sometimes the work looks okay, or even great when viewed in low-res photos, but trust me—it’s never close to perfect. (If it was, I’d be afraid to take the finished boat out for a row, paddle or sail.) So, realizing I’m comfortable with imperfection, the older I get the more I appreciate workboat finishes, carpentry details that will never appear in Fine Woodworking, and the reality that if I make a mistake working with wood, I can always do it again, and maybe better next time…learning from every mistake. And meanwhile enjoying the hell out of every day I’m in the boatshop, or here at the keyboard, sharing small-boat stuff with you.

Thanks for reading - Marty