They weren’t shiny enough. I know. In the eyes of a woodsmith, such as we, they were beautiful. But the guys who put years of work into their show buggies insist, as do the judges, that bedboards appear as though there’s a sheet of quarter-inch glass lying on top. Which they do now. He handed them over to someone else. A word about the someone else: He’s a guy who spent thirty years restoring and refinishing pianos. His current gig involves building and finishing furniture for Gulfstream Jets. Why my man didn’t go to him in the first place is a mystery. I spent at least 120 hours, taking off the old finish, bleaching out the iron stains that had developed over the years, laying on layer after layer of polyurethane (about 18, in the end), and, in short, being absolutely consumed and wrecked by the project. And wound up with gorgeous wood that lacked the appropriate shine. So, three coats of an unknown clear coat, sprayed on, and here’s what he got. I don’t blame him. This was done in less than a week. Hours, I don’t know. Clear coat, I don’t know. If I ever meet the guy again (the someone else), I’ll ask him. For now, I’m so over this.
By way of redeeming myself, I made some door props for him. I just handed them over to him. His buggy is at the L.A. Convention Center now, for the weekend. He took off this afternoon, just as I was Trimming them to fit properly. I won’t know until after the show whether they do, unless he calls me. In case they don’t (and my self-confidence has taken a brutal beating lately), I handed him two little wedges that, while having no style at all, should do the job.