One of the singular pleasures of my life has been building stuff. Since I was 8 years old and built a dam across a creek at Camp Kilmer, New Jersey thereby flooding the adjacent parking lot for the NCO’s housing (three feet deep), I have built things.

For the record, I got a full grown adult ass chewing, but my Dad was very interested in how I formed the local kids into a work force, stole the cinder blocks from the Post Engineers who were working on a culvert and crossover on the creek, and my design — which worked just fine. [My first startup?]

Later, when a combat engineer in Korea, I would build a series of gabion dams down a watercourse that flooded a village across from our base. It was a very similar design. That village never flooded again.

Anyway, there are those in life who are builders. They like to build things. I think I wanted to be one from an early age and I got to do it. I am addicted to the smell of sawdust.

I built a lot of things including high rise office buildings, land development, and renovating old office buildings, apartments, shopping centers. It always takes a team.

In making those teams and in operating those teams, I have met a ton of similarly minded persons.

Today, I am finishing up (let’s be clear, my wife is in charge) the renovation of our home in anticipation of selling it. I have met a lot of excellent craftsmen — Texans, great Americans, hard workers, personalities, and craftsmen — master craftsmen.

Buying the craftsmanship

As a former developer, I am keen on competitive bidding to smoke out the “best price” something that always, always, always works. They key is to define the scope of work with such breathtaking clarity that everybody is bidding on the same thing.

Sometimes, you get a great price, but that great price is based on the need to do a little more supervision. You might say you earn the difference, but I always have found it is worth the savings and I enjoy the relationship.

In life you don;t get what you deserve, you get what you negotiate. In construction, you don’t get what you expect, you get what you supervise.

How does one become an American Craftsman, Big Red Car?

One is called to become an American Craftsman. It seems like this is the process:

You have some initial contact with the craft by virtue of a relative being in the craft. Maybe it grows from a summer job. I always worked in construction as a kid.

You get a taste of it and like it. I spent a summer building dams and laying in rip-rap. Spent another summer raising manholes in the middle of busy streets. Ran a jackhammer, finished concrete, mixed concrete for patches, built sidewalks, filled gabions with rocks. The cure for not wanting to build damns took that summer. Still, I studied civil engineering and learned how to design and build dams. I just didn’t want to haul one more wheel barrow of rip-rap. It was a great summer job.

You aspire to become a craftsman. There is a moment in which you say, “I want to give this trade a try.” If you were becoming a nun, you would now be a postulant.

You buy the tools. Tools do not make a craftsman, but a craftsman loves good tools. You lust after good tools.

You become a novice, a novitiate and work for a master craftsman — you begin to learn. One of the hallmarks of a great craftsman is continual learning as materials, tools, technique evolve.

You learn enough that you are trusted to do substantial parts of a bigger job. You are a journeyman.

You learn enough that you are trusted to do the entire job subject only to supervision from a master craftsman. You are a craftsman, but not quite a master craftsman.

One day, you realize you can do it all. You can price the job, lay it out, order the materials, do the work, clean up, and sell the finished project to the customer. Now, you are a master craftsman.

So, what do you do, Big Red Car?

A master craftsman may go into business for him/her self. You hang out a shingle, you solicit work, you market your reputation, you run your own independent business. You get to eat what you kill.

During lean times, you will hunt work and take it at low prices to keep skin on your bones. During better times, you will chase off work as you have too much and you will command higher prices.

All the while, you are learning about business, maintaining your currency in your craft, and building up a book of business and a reputation. You are a builder, a master craftsman, and an entrepreneur. You are what makes America great.

Bottom line it, Big Red Car

Recently, I have re-done a kitchen, a utility room, a power room, and four bathrooms. The tile/stone guys were superb. They were like working with Michelangelo.

We had a painter who moved the furniture, took the pictures off the wall, covered everything, masked every intersection, cleaned up, kept the paints straight, arrived on time and worked hard. Then, they replaced the furniture and cleaned up to a degree of detail better than when they arrived. They put up a spray booth in the garage. And, they were the low bidder.

I have a roofer, an electrician, a plumber, a paperhanger, a pool guy, a rough carpenter, and a finish carpenter cut from the same bolt of cloth. [This is where I tell you I also ran off a couple of subs before finding the Dream Team.]

So, here’s to you, Texan, American, master craftsmen. Well played.

So, dear reader, there you have it, the American Craftsman. Bravo. 

But, hey, what the Hell do I really know anyway? I’m just a Big Red Car. Now, if I could get the Boss to repaint me? Is this a great country or what?