Not Everyone Can Be a Smooth Operating Ninja

That’s what I was back in middle school. Taller than most. Darker and quicker too. 

A few memories from those days revolve around shop class, but one in particular comes to mind from inside Mr. Horgas’ domain. If I recall, we were working on custom projects — from blueprint to final stain, and mine ended up being a CD rack. Side note: At one point I pulled the ultimate loving son move and designed a parrot shaped clock for my mom; cut that one with the jigsaw. (No she is not a Buffett fan, she actually raised and bred parrots during my childhood).

But for this particular project I ended up using the “band saw.” Similar to a table saw in its function, the band saw gets its name because its blade runs like a belt on your car motor. Being a bit advanced on my project, I took the time to assist the ladies in class with their cuts, but only if they needed it — few resisted my assistance.

Well that, in part is what got me in trouble.

While assisting nameless young lady, I must have been distracted for a second while making a cut, because damned if that band saw didn’t cut into my right index finger. You know the one that rests on the “j” key and is also used to hit the “y” and “n.” Chewing through the tip of my finger — nail and all — this damn blade didn’t know it was working with a smooth operating ninja. It ate about a half an inch in and I pulled back. Now the tip of my finger looked like a snake’s tongue. 


That was until the blood started to gush. Saw still running I grabbed my finger with the opposing hand and walked over to Mr. Horgas who had been helping another student. I waited my turn, but then the finger started to throb and I interrupted Mr. Horgas to ask for a Band-Aid, because “I nicked myself on the band saw.”

He looked at my finger, gushing blood and his eyes engaged — “Whoa, time out on the band saw,” he exclaimed with his baritone southern draw. I didn’t laugh then, but the replay in my head is funny every time. Till this day, I can repeat that “time out on the band saw” line to certain people and it elicits immediate laughter.

Despite the medical bill situation, the little mishap ended up not being all that bad. Luckily I was covered by insurance at the time, but that wasn’t always the case. I tend to have a fairly high pain tolerance, so I don’t remember much of that — well, aside from the first few days when I could feel the replay of the sharp blade eating through the center of my finger as if it were nameless young lady’s piece of wood.

Being that it was my index finger on my right finger and that is the hand I use to write, I could choose an “assistant” to help me with my notes in class. Most certainly an attractive and friendly young lady.

These days, with a scar on my finger and healthy respect for power tools, the man I work for — California Assemblymember Das Williams — is authoring a piece of state legislation to help the common man have ninja like results also in the event their flesh comes in contact with the blade of a table saw. Technology exists that can stop the blade of a table saw — applicable to other types of saws as well — quick enough to drastically limit the injury. The proposed law would require that all table saws manufactured for sale in California after 2015 would require ninja reaction technology to detect flesh and stop it in a split second.

Federal stats document more than 67,000 injuries similar or worse than mine a year. That ads up to more than $2.36 billion in medical costs annually; same federal data, not me. It’s that high in part because the average medical cost for the blade contact injuries is about $35,000 a pop. Such available technology may not drop the number of injuries, but it sure makes them less damaging. Get this, the blade stops before it cuts off your digit. If it were you, your finger would be left with just a knick instead of, well, the alternative. 

Imagine that, just like an airbag softens the impact of an auto accident, the ninja reaction saw technology serves a similar function. And one day just as all cars come standard with airbags, so will power saws come with ninja reaction technology. Because after all, not everyone can be a smooth operating ninja.

This scribed in the hope for a lot of hungry blades out there that only get a taste — I salute my finger.

[Check this video about the legislation and technology]  

 

On the Campain Trail — Now about that fear and loathing

More than seven years ago, a young newspaper reporter green and a fresh graduate of a reputable J-school penned a column that ran in the Chronicle Tribune, Marion, Ind. with the headline, "We should all fullfill our civic duty to keep politicians in line."

After the column had published I recall a conversation with my bulldog of an executive editor, lambasting me for what I had wrote. She warned that I hadn't earned the authority to make such aggressive statements about my disdain for politics and politicians, especially coming from someone relatively new to the community. (Good luck to anyone who can find that column, it ran a little more than a month ahead of a primary election).

Fast forward seven years and I find myself on the other side of the politics game — and that-it-is; a game! There is a strange juxtaposition when you jump from in front of, to behind the printed political story. But the words I shared with the community of Grant County, Ind. comes full circle to my current work as a field organizer for Das Williams' campaign for California State Assembly, District 35, which spans slightly north of Santa Barbara, down to include most of Oxnard.

I feel different than most of these politicos. Much of the time I feel like the lone strait, right handed cat in the room wearing his watch on the right wrist. Or maybe I'm just the only cat in the room who would pay attention to such detail.

But now, I have become a part of the very political machine from which I have previously felt disenfranchised, have scrutinized and bemoaned. I went from being that unemployed guy, to working on my first campaign, like I hopped into the cockpit of Bugatti Veyron. Although, much less glamorous. Twelve hour days are a welcome delight. It doesn't exactly feel like work always, but I've got plenty of work to do.

In my past, I have covered plenty of elections, from small town politics and school board races to pieces of the historic 2008 Presidential election. The latter, from THE battle ground state of Ohio. Then, I was working as the education reporter at the Toledo Blade. One day, on that campaign trail, my assignment was to follow and cover the rallies of Sarah Palin as she traveled the state, from Canton to Columbus. I contributed on the scene add-ins to the overall coverage. Sidebar: Those Secret Service guys are alright, but they are on their job. I guess game recognize game though.

Let it be known, covering an election and working for a campaign are like comparing a one night stand to a summer fling that has the potential to turn into something longer term.

I was ignited in part by that need-to-know associated with being a newspaper man. The rest of the fire came out of the annoyance of having to quietly sit in the stands and simply report what I saw leading up to and through the announcement that Barack Obama was going to be our 44th President. So I jumped at the chance to put my skills to use for a progressive, smart and upcoming young man with a background as a community organizer and university instructor. Additionally, Das has a strong endorsement from a highly respected friend. Then, when my skeptical gauge realized the genuineness of Das, I know his intentions and actions are in the right place and he isn't going to be one of the "many or multiple" "small blood-sucking insects" I wrote of in March 2003.

"Political influence is a chance to utilize the power that citizens create for you to change not only yourself, but also the community you represent."

I feel like Das Williams really gets that and it's something he has been doing through his grassroots campaign for State Assembly. House to house, neighbor to neighbor, the past few months have flown by. The countdown is now fewer than 20 days until the June 8th Primary. The day 69 count seemed like it was just last week — but that's also when my written words got the 7-year itch.

To date, this campaign trail is riddled with good times, inspiring young minds, plenty of talking, occasionally some gawking; takes lots of cojones and can be cold and lonely, much time spent on the phone, many "I'll vote for, but volunteer ... no." Networking and meeting all new people, the campaign trail pushed me back through the churches steeple.

"Decisions should reflect Kingdom values and not abandon the basic tenants of our faith," Das said to the congregation.

My man. It was the most in-his-element I had seen the candidate. Though my bet is that he'd be even more comfortable once he's elected and can directly effect change. But the road to that aim is paved with slung mud and lined with tactics and distortions. Just more of what had previously kept me out of the process.

"Politics is a blood sport, people need not forget it," the Derby Jedi reminded me early on the campaign trail.

"Axel grease wards off the theft of yard signs. Wipe it on a towel and smear it around the edges," the wise sibling suggested.

I'm just going to stay on the grind and stick to the winning plan. Have got to get on my game. Must I fall at the feet of my sugar mama again, this time in my three-decade-old birthday suit? The campaign trail made me do it!