In my day job, performing for folks is a gas, and I am very tickled to make a nice living as a professional jackass, but it is the production of sawdust and shavings that brings me the most profound satisfaction. I love nothing more than to escape to my shop and set up a wenge (African hardwood) canoe thwart in my bench vise and set to shaping it with nothing more than a freshly sharpened spokeshave and a complacent smile. I crank up some Neil Young or Tom Waits, some Bob Dylan or Iron and Wine and lose myself in the making. The great agrarian writer Wendell Berry asserts that hard work is a privilege, and I whole-heartedly doff my cap in agreement.