I did that carpentry thing too for a year, a long time ago. Hanging down head over by the knees from the ridge, and banging nine inch nails into the rafters from below. Up to 8 floors high. Looking like an animal. What can i say? In retrospective it was much more satisfying than much of anything i did afterwards. I really built something to last, immediately visible, tangible.
Though of course it would have been hard to do that for more than five to ten years. And it WAS dangerous. Many alcoholics there also.
edit: But i really learned to use a hammer from some functional alcoholic which needed two bottles of beer first to get his shaking under control. So...prejudice be damned!
2nd edit: He, in traditional carpenters clothes, coming from Berlin and speaking that dialect. Lying in the shade of some wall, upping his level of beer.
Me, mostly clueless but agile rookie, stylelessly in military surplus chlothing somewhere in the 'Ruhrpott' in North-Rhine-Westphalia, slowly doing his thing up there.
He, 'Dude! I can't stand nor hear and see how you are hammering!'
Me, 'Wassup?! Show me then you lazy old fart!'
And he did. Effectively 'teaching in' hands on at first, then by constantly giving voice feedback from his shadow behind the wall. Like, 'Too slow, better, Jaa!, like that, go on!'
And so i did, happily banging away heads down and bare chested in the morning sun, not minding his lazyness at all.
There was more to it. It had something zen-like, because his voice from the shadow also said snidely 'Not like that, i can hear how you are holding it wrong!' , and instructed me to hold/bend my wrist this and that way. And my arm, elbow, shoulder, body. He masterfully knew the kinematics of hammering and could apply that to teaching you in an almost eerie way.
Though of course it would have been hard to do that for more than five to ten years. And it WAS dangerous. Many alcoholics there also.
edit: But i really learned to use a hammer from some functional alcoholic which needed two bottles of beer first to get his shaking under control. So...prejudice be damned!
2nd edit: He, in traditional carpenters clothes, coming from Berlin and speaking that dialect. Lying in the shade of some wall, upping his level of beer.
Me, mostly clueless but agile rookie, stylelessly in military surplus chlothing somewhere in the 'Ruhrpott' in North-Rhine-Westphalia, slowly doing his thing up there.
He, 'Dude! I can't stand nor hear and see how you are hammering!'
Me, 'Wassup?! Show me then you lazy old fart!'
And he did. Effectively 'teaching in' hands on at first, then by constantly giving voice feedback from his shadow behind the wall. Like, 'Too slow, better, Jaa!, like that, go on!'
And so i did, happily banging away heads down and bare chested in the morning sun, not minding his lazyness at all.